Help, I Need Somebody
by IzzyDelta
Summary: John and Sherlock investigate a case with disastrous consequences. They become toddlers! Sometimes life is more adventurous and scary when you're 3 years old. Warnings: Mycroft has a heart, Soppy Donovan, Papa Greg. DO NOT OWN CHARACTERS
1. Prologue, The Case

**Help, I Need Somebody**

**Prologue**

**The Case**

John and Sherlock sit in Mycroft's office waiting for the man himself to grace the room with his presence. John glances at his watch then at the clock to the left of the desk, as The British Government would see it. 'I should have been at the clinic three hours ago Sherlock.' Sherlock just shrugs and goes back to scanning the room. Four secret doors found so far. John emits a heavy sigh. 'Twenty minutes then I'm going.'

'You said that two hours ago.'

'And you still haven't told me why I _need_ to be here.' Sherlock huffs.

'Do I have to?'

'YES!'

'All right, calm down. I'm supposed to be the dramatic one.' Sherlock brandishes a crumpled piece of paper at him. 'Here.' John snatches at the sheet and reads through it. 'The fat oaf summoned both of us. Not totally sure why though.'

'Alert the papers. Sherlock Holmes doesn't know everything.'

'Sarcasm John, doesn't suit you.'

'Sod off Sherlock.'

'Can't we're needed here.'

'Don't you just want to punch him sometimes Doctor?' A new voice asks.

'Yes, very amusing, Mycroft.'

'Did you spot this door Sherlock?'

'As a matter of fact, yes.'

'What do you want us for Mycroft? You could have come to the flat.'

'Not enough for his superiority complex, is it Mycroft?'

'Shut up Sherlock.'

'Thank you, Doctor Watson, but entirely unnecessary.' Mycroft moves from his position on the threshold of the secret door and walks with his regal stride to the chair behind his desk. He sits after flicking the back of his jacket out to make sure he doesn't sit on it and pulling up his trouser legs slightly.

'Get on with it Mycroft. I don't think Sherlock will be too happy if I spend all day at the clinic for the next three days.'

'I'll be fine John, honestly.' John smiles at Sherlock.

'And what about our agreement? You haven't deleted it have you?'

'No.'

'Good.' Mycroft switches his gaze between the flatmates. 'Mycroft?'

'We've had some recent thefts.'

'Thefts? Really? Dull.' Sherlock rises with all his elegance and strides towards the door. 'Come on John.' John stands glancing at the elder Holmes. He shrugs at starts to follow the younger one.

'From a top secret lab…' Sherlock pauses. 'When the only two people who had access to the said lab were in a meeting with myself.' Sherlock spins on his heels to face his brother.

'Only two people had access?'

'Yes.'

'What about cleaners?' John asks.

'Do not have individual access. One of the technicians supervises them at all times.'

'You have access of course.'

'Actually, no I don't. It was on my recommendation that two and only two people have access while they develop the-'

'Develop what? Mycroft.'

'The chemical.'

'What chemical?'

'An anti-aging chemical.'

'As in the anti-aging creams you see in adverts?'

'Not quite John, my dear brother wouldn't be interested in that. Too pedestrian. No, this has to be more potent. What exactly Mycroft?'

'A chemical, when consumed can turn a fully developed adult into a child.'

'When you say child you mean what?' John asks.

'The technicians theorised that if they could take say a forty year old man and they administer the chemical and turn him into three year old child.'

'So not just the mind then.'

'No, Doctor Watson, not just the mind.'

'What's been stolen?'

'The recipe.'

'The recipe?'

'The recipe.' Mycroft confirms sighing. 'Sherlock, you know how I loathe repeating myself.' Sherlock grins.

'What's been stolen again?'

'Sherlock, a time and a place.'

'Thank you Doctor Watson.'

'What do you want us to do Mycroft?' John asks to stop Sherlock from antagonising Mycroft further.

'To find the culprit, how they did it, who for and why?'

'All the important questions then.' Sherlock mutters striding back to the main door. He wrenches it open. 'Come on John.'

'Sherlock.'

'Yes?' The consulting detective snaps. Undeterred Mycroft hold up a couple of swipe cards.

'You will need access to the labs. Do. Not. Abuse. Them.' He hands them to John. 'Keep him in check Doctor Watson.' He murmurs as John accepts the cards.

'I'll do what I can.' John murmurs back before following Sherlock out of the room.


	2. Chapter 1, The Changelings

**Chapter 1**

**The Changelings**

_Sherlock and John climb the seventeen steps to their flat. Each step feeling harder than the one before. They stumble into the living room and tumble onto the couch. John rolls to try and make himself more comfy but falls off onto the floor. He shakes his head to clear the clouds of sleep building up behind his eyes. He stands pulling Sherlock off the couch as he does so. 'John.' Sherlock whines. _

'_Bed, Sherlock.' John yawns._

'_I was comfy.'_

'_You will even more comfy in your bed. I'm going to mine.' Sherlock reluctantly peels himself from the floor and totters to his room. John climbs the stairs to his room pulling himself up using the banisters. Upon reaching their beds they both fall fully clothed onto the mattresses and pull the sheets up to cover themselves. A deep sleep overwhelms both of the inmates to 221b Baker Street._

A loud crying sound wakes Sherlock from his deep sleep. He raises his hands to rub his eyes but is confused when small fists appear instead of his long tapered fingers. He looks down at his body and instead of a slightly undernourished but elegant lean, long body a much shorter and under developed body is under the same sheets that he drew over himself the previous evening. He glances at the clock and involuntarily furrows his forehead to work out the time. Suddenly his bed seems much to big for him to be him. He crawls out of the covers and looks into the mirror in the en suite bathroom. He sees himself but it's not him. It is him but as a three year old toddler. His brow furrows again as he tries to work it out. Frustrated, he begins to cry. He hears the crying from upstairs stop and a few minutes later and an elderly woman he vaguely recognises enters his room carrying a teary toddler on her hip. Sherlock's crying stops and he reaches up to her. Instead of picking him up she places the other toddler next to him. 'Aww, you two look gorgeous together. Now Sherlock, John, what we going to do with you? I'm your landlady not your nanny.' Toddler John stares at her tears still in his eyes. She carefully wipes them away before wiping the tears from Sherlock's cheeks. John sticks his thumb in his mouth and stares at him. The doorbell rings and she looks over her shoulder. 'I'd better go and see who that it is. She strokes a cheek on both of them, before gently removing the thumb from John's mouth and smiling at the resulting pout. 'Stay here you two.' she stands with a little grimace due to her painful hip and walks down stairs. The two toddlers look after her with concerned faces. Tears start falling from John's eyes again. Sherlock reaches across and wipes them away. He giggles looking at the teardrop sitting on his finger. John starts giggling as well. Within moments they both of them are laughing hysterically. So much so, that they don't notice Mrs Hudson returning with DI Greg Lestrade behind her.

'Wow, they really are kids.' The toddlers stop laughing and stare at the newcomer. John shrinks back but Sherlock reaches up for the DI. He laughs and picks him up. 'I always thought you would have been an adorable kid. Naughty as well I suppose.' Mrs Hudson picks John up and together they carry the toddlers into the living room. 'I think a trip to Whitehall is in order, Mrs Hudson.'

'Not until they've had some food. They've only just gotten up.'

'They need some clothes. They can't go out. Look at them. Sherlock's shirt swamps him. John's looks cute but is still way too big.' Mrs Hudson smiles.

'Easily sorted, you entertain and sort out food for them. I'll go and get some clothes from flat c.'

'Why do you have baby clothes in the basement?'

'Mrs Turner next door, her married ones have a five year boy. They also want another, so they're storing the baby stuff downstairs.' Greg Lestrade laughs gently shaking his head. 'They won't mind if we borrow some.' Mrs Hudson gently places John on the couch. Greg situates Sherlock next to him. He lowers himself to the floor and looks up at the toddlers. He tickles Sherlock under his chin making his giggle. He does the same to John who giggles around his thumb.

'Don't suck your thumb John. It makes you weak.' John stares at him wide eyed. He ruffles the toddler's sandy blond hair. 'Nah, it doesn't really. Taste nice?' John nods thumb wedged in his mouth. Mrs Hudson returns carrying two small outfits. One a suit, which she gives to Greg and a small jumper and jeans combo that she keeps hold of.

'Perfect choices Mrs Hudson.' Greg pulls Sherlock's full sized shirt over his head and eases Sherlock's arms into the right sized shirt and jacket. He glances over to where Mrs Hudson had taken John to dress him. A tug on his sleeves brings his attention back to Sherlock. 'Ever the attention seeker huh?' He ruffles Sherlock's curls teasing a giggle from the toddler. 'Trousers.' Sherlock edges himself to the margin of the sofa and stick his legs out to make it easier for Greg to slide them on. He looks for a pair of sock to put on. 'Socks?' He turns to see Mrs Hudson holding out four pairs to John. John points at one pair.

'John?' She prompts.

'Pease.' She laughs gently and places the chosen pair of plain blue on his lap. She throws the other three to Greg.

'Thought they could choose.'

'Why not.' He turns back to the toddler lays them on the sofa next to Sherlock. 'Which pair would you like?' Sherlock examines them with the same curiousity Greg sees at crime scenes.

'This one pwease.' He asks picking the black pair with blue spots and handing it to Greg.

'How old are you Sherlock?'

'Sh, sh, Shock thwee.'

'Aww, he can't say his name properly.' Mrs Hudson coos. 'John, can you say your name?' John shakes his head. 'Say John.'

'Don.' Toddler John says.

'They've both got a lisp.'

'We've got to go to Whitehall and talk to Mycroft. We'll get food for them on the way.'

'Just out of interest, Greg, why did you come over?'

'I need Sherlock's help.'


	3. Chapter 2, Yard Gossips

**Chapter 2**

**Yard Gossips**

A taxi pulls up outside the front entrance of Scotland Yard and a greying man climbs out carrying a curly-haired toddler. 'You can stay in the cab with Mrs Hudson.' The toddler shakes his head violently. 'Okay. Come on then.' He shifts the toddler to his hip and walks into Scotland Yard. He makes his way through the corridors and up the stairwells to his office. 'Want to walk?'

'Yes pwease.' Sherlock whispers. At the top of the flight Greg places Sherlock on his feet and takes his hand. He pushes open the door to his department.

'Come on Shock.' The toddler grins and walks through the door holding tightly to Greg's hand. 'I think Sergeant Donovan isn't happy.' Greg whispers down to Sherlock, who grins back up at him. He points to himself. 'I think so.' Donovan paces up and down the room glaring at the floor and muttering insults under her breath. She looks up and sees Greg.

'Sir, the freak hasn't shown. He won't, knowing him.'

'He can't show, Donovan.'

'How can you know that sir?' She spots the toddler by his side and melts. 'Aww, he's cute. Can I hold him?' Sherlock tugs his hand out of Greg's and reaches up to Donovan.

'I think that's a yes.' She picks him up tickling under his chin.

'What's he doing here? And where's Sherlock?'

'You're holding him Sally.' Donovan looks at the toddler in her arms.

'Seriously?' Greg nods.

'I'm on my way to see Mycroft and try to find out what happened. I just looked in to let you know.'

'Want Don.' Greg takes him back into his arms.

'You want John, do you Shock?' Sherlock nods and buries his face in Greg's neck. Greg strokes the toddler's bouncy curls. 'You could have stayed in the cab. Come on lets go and find him. Donovan, you're in charge. I'll try to get back later but I'm not counting on it.'

'It's okay sir. I'll give you a call if we need you.' Greg carries the toddler out of the department. Sherlock moves his head to look behind Greg. He waves shyly and smiles when Donovan waves back. The doors close and he buries his head into Greg's neck again.

'Tired are we Shock?' Sherlock nods causing Greg to smile as the curls tickle his neck.

Back in the homicide department, Donovan smiles as she watches Greg carry the toddler version of Sherlock away. 'He was so cute.' One of the other police officers coo.

'Was that really Sherlock Holmes?'

'Apparently he is.' Anderson walks through the door onto the department floor.

'Who's the kid?'

'The boy with Greg?'

'Yeah. He's cute.' Donovan and another officer share a smile.

'He won't be as cute when you know.'

'I highly doubt that.'

'He's Sherlock Holmes.' Anderson gapes at her.

'Yeah right.' He scoffs. 'You're joking.'

'I'm not, somehow he and John have both regressed into toddlers.' Anderson's eyes sparkle

'Think of the pranks we could play on him.'

'Anderson! No. He's a child.' Donovan pokes him in the chest. 'He might be an infuriating moron fully grown but he's currently a child, therefore vulnerable.' She smiles at the memory of him in her arms. 'Besides he's a quiet polite kid.'

'Relax, I was kidding.'

'No you weren't. We don't know if he even remembers us.' She turns on her heels to face the incidence board. 'Right, we have work to do. We don't have Sherlock or DI Lestrade to lead us. Let's make them proud.'

The cab that had previously pulled up out side Scotland Yard stops outside the foreign and commonwealth office. 'Can't wait for you here mate.'

'That's okay. I wasn't expecting you to.' Greg replies. 'How much?'

'Nuffing.'

'Excuse me?'

'While you and darkie were in the station, the missus and Blondie kept me entertained. Right laugh the pair of them are. That's payment enough for me.'

'Thank you.' Mrs Hudson leans down.

'Come to Speedy's café on Baker street later. There'll be a sandwich or pastry waiting for you.'

'Thank you ma'am.' Greg and Mrs Hudson hoist their toddlers onto their hips and walk into the building. Greg groans.

'Every time I come here I swear I'm led to a different office. Shock, what are you doing?' He asks as the toddler wriggles down from Greg's hip. The toddler latches onto Greg's hand and starts pulling him further into the building. 'I think Sherlock remembers the way to his brother's office.' Greg scoops him up and positions the toddler on his shoulders. 'Kick me gently when we need to turn okay kiddo?' Sherlock giggles and leans over Greg's head. 'Oi, I can't see where I'm going, up.' John stares at Sherlock on Greg's shoulders as he clings to Mrs Hudson's shoulder. He snuggles under her chin and wraps his arm around her neck. She strokes his cheek as she carries him following Greg and Sherlock. They walk for a few minutes with Sherlock indicating which way to go with his heel to Greg's chest.

'Mycwoft!' Sherlock says suddenly. Greg tilts his head to see where Sherlock is looking. Sherlock points to a door to their left in the corridor. Sure enough Mycroft Holmes is written on a gold plaque on the door.

'Do you want to knock or are we going to let John?' Greg asks the toddler on his shoulders.

'Let Don.' He answers promptly. Greg lifts him down from his seat on his shoulder and positions him on his hip. Sherlock immediately wraps his arm around Greg's neck. Greg steps out of the way to let Mrs Hudson and John knock. John knock timidly and Mrs Hudson reiterates the knock to make sure anyone on the other side of the door heard. Seconds later the door is opened by Anthea. Her eyes widen slightly at the four of them standing there. 'Mycwoft pwease.' Sherlock asks quietly. Anthea smiles at him and steps back.

'He's in a meeting in his office but I'll let him know you're here.' Greg and Sherlock follow Mrs Hudson and John into the office. Anthea closes the door behind them. Greg and Mrs Hudson place the toddlers on the floor. Anthea squats down to looks at them. 'Are you hungry?' John nods, his thumb back in his mouth.

'Yes.'

'Would you like a cookie?'

'Yes pwease.' Sherlock says.

'Pease.' John whispers.

'I'll just get you one each.' Anthea stands and disappears through a different door. She returns seconds later with a tray laden four cookies, two cups of tea and two boxes of orange juice. She sets the tray on her desk before walking over to the other elegant door off her office. She knocks and waits.

'Enter.' Mycroft's voice comes through the door. She opens it a crack and stick her head in.

'Sir, your brother is here to see you. It's rather important.'

'Can it wait?' Anthea looks over her shoulder at the four of them.

'No, it can't.'


	4. Chapter 3, Brotherly Bonds

**Chapter 3**

**Brotherly Bonds**

Mycroft looks up at the five people who had just entered his office in surprise, especially, at the two toddlers in the arms of Mrs Hudson and Greg Lestrade. He glances at Anthea's amused expression. Sherlock hold his arms out for his older brother and when Mycroft doesn't move, he attempts to wriggle down from his place on Greg's hip. 'No, not this time Shock.' Greg repositions his hands successfully keeping Sherlock in position. Sherlock puts his arms out for Mycroft again pouting. His face begins to crumple and Mycroft mentally shakes himself from the surprise. He rises and walks over to his baby brother and takes him into his arms. 'What happened Mycroft?' Greg asks. Anthea relieves Mrs Hudson of John.

'Have a seat by the window Mrs Hudson.' He says not wanting to answer Greg's question. She complies.

'Mycroft what happened to them. And please don't just say they've turned into children.' Mycroft accepts John onto his other hip. The blond haired toddler leans his head on Mycroft's shoulder and closes his eyes still sucking his thumb. Mycroft carries the pair of them over to an armchair by the large window. He seats himself carefully so he doesn't dislodge either of the toddlers.

'Sit down Gregory. Anthea?'

'On its way.' She replies instantly disappearing.

'Mycroft?' Greg remains standing.

'Sit down. You'll need to.' Greg reluctantly complies sinking into the armchair opposite Mycroft.

'Well?'

'Yesterday, I requested that Sherlock and John meet me here as I had a potential case for them. Unfortunately, I was running late but wasn't sure when I would be able to talk to them. As it turns out they were waiting a good few hours for me. As it happens Sherlock accepted the case. And I assume solved it but I was in a meeting that I wasn't able to leave at any point. While investigating, according to one of the lab technicians a flask of chemical split over the pair of them.'

'What was the chemical?'

'I trust this will not leave the room?'

'Mycroft!'

'Greg, calm down.' Mrs Hudson interjects. 'Mycroft, you know it won't.'

'Thank you Mrs Hudson, you truly are a wonderful woman. However, the chemical wasn't fully complete and it is relatively untested. We know that if this chemical is consumed the consumer reverts into a child. The technicians assured me that neither John nor Sherlock had let any passed their lips having been rushed into showers by the technicians and their clothes washed. I can only imagine that the chemical touched their skin and that caused them to change into three-year olds.'

'What was the case?' Greg asks.

'Theft of the recipe to make the chemical.'

'Is it permanent?'

'If swallowed yes.'

'But?'

'We don't know if absorbed through the skin. Which it seems happened to these two.' He indicates the two sleeping toddlers on his lap. 'Ah, perfect timing Anthea.' Greg looks up to see Anthea bearing a tray laden with tea things. She sets the tray on the coffee table in the middle of the chairs and leaves.

'Who's going to look after them?' Mrs Hudson asks. The two men look at her. 'Before you say anything, I would but can't. I'm going on holiday with Mrs Turner for three weeks tomorrow.'

'I will.' Greg volunteers. 'I'll look after them.'

'Are you sure?'

'Yeah. I mean Sherlock isn't really trusting. Right?' Mycroft nods 'And John needs to be with someone he knows. I mean he was nervous of me before he realised who I was. Now he knows he'll be fine.'

'You were carrying Sherlock.'

'Only because he refused to be carried by Mrs Hudson.'

'Maybe I would like to care for them.'

'Realistically, would you be able to give them the attention they need?'

'No.'

'Seeing as only people in this room know exactly what happened to them. I am the only real variable option. For three weeks anyway.'

'I will give you any financial help I can.'

'You'll be on babysitting duties as well.' Mycroft chuckles. 'And you Mrs Hudson when you get back.'

'Oughtn't you let your wife know about this?'

'Good point, may I-'

'On the desk, just dial.' Greg hauls himself out of the comfy armchair and walks over to the desk to ring his wife.

Twenty minutes later he returns to a cold cup of tea. He takes a mouthful and laughs to himself. 'Cold beverages, the bane of a cops life.'

'The joys of having a secretary, you can just order another pot when you need to.'

'All right for some. Anyway Mary says that she will pick them up from the yard. It gives her time to pick up some stuff from her sister's. And it allows you to finish packing Mrs Hudson. They can play in my office. Or sleep. Or what ever they need to do.'

'Mary is definitely fine with this?' Mycroft asks concerned.

'Yes. We want to foster or adopt but social services are reluctant because of my job. Working all hours.' Greg sighs. Mirrored by a sleepy Sherlock. The toddler begins to stir and wake up. He snuggles into the jacket of his elder brother, who ruffles his curls.

'Mycwoft.'

'Yeah Shock. Wake up.' Sherlock stretches and in the process wakes John up. The blonde toddler begins to cry. Greg stands and picks John up from Mycroft's lap. He soothes the crying boy against his shoulder and rubs the boy's back. Quickly the tears stop falling and John brightens. Greg sets the toddler on his feet and crouches down to be on his level.

'You okay?' John nods. 'Just tired?' John nods again rubbing his eyes. Sherlock watches him before climbing down from Mycroft's lap and hugging John from behind nearly toppling them both. Greg steadies them. 'Shock, John look at me.' he talks gently to them. 'Would you like to stay with me and Mrs Lestrade?' John stares at Greg confusion in his eyes.

'Missus Hudson?' Sherlock asks hopefully.

'She's going on holiday. But she may be able to look after you when she comes back.' John tugs on Sherlock's sleeve.

'Her hip.' He whispers. John reaches for a hug from Greg. 'Stay wive you pease.' Greg hugs the smaller toddler.

'Shock?'

'You pwease.'

'Not Mycroft?' Sherlock looks over his shoulder.

'He wary busy.' He says bluntly. 'He see us?' He asks hope in his eyes. Mycroft moves to kneel next to Greg.

'I will Lock. I'll see you as often as I can.' Sherlock smiles broadly and reaches up to Mycroft. Mycroft picks up his little brother and squeezes him. 'You behave for Gregory won't you Shock?' Sherlock nods against his brother's neck. 'Good boy.' Sherlock detaches himself and holds his arms out to Greg.

'Go to Mrs Hudson.' Sherlock pouts. 'Just to the cab? Please.' Sherlock nods and runs over to Mrs Hudson who swings him onto her hip. He sits there as if he was born to sit there. 'Come you three. We need to go to the Yard.'

'Would you like me to alert Ms Donovan?' Mycroft asks as the two men rise.

'Umm, please. Get her to be waiting outside of the Yard. Thanks Mycroft.'

'No problem, it's the least I can do.'


	5. Chapter 4, Twice Slapped

**Chapter 4 **

**Twice Slapped**

A second cab pulls up outside Scotland and stops next to a woman standing at the road edge. She opens the passenger door and looks in. 'Hello again, Shock.'

'Take him will you?'

'Hello Mrs Hudson.' Donovan says as she lifts Sherlock off her lap.

'Hello dear.' Mrs Hudson climbs out to let Greg out.

'We're meeting Mary here in, oh, forty minutes.' Sherlock nestles into Donovan's neck. Greg stands and stretches. A couple of clicks are heard in his spine. 'That feels good.' He bends and reaches in to lift John out. Donovan's heart melts for a second time as John surfaces from the cab.

'Aww, he's so sweet.' John hides his face in Greg's neck.

'And shy.' Greg mutters moving away from the cab allowing Mrs Hudson to climb back in. He leans down awkwardly 'Have fun on holiday, if we don't see you before.'

'Why don't you and Mary bring them to come and see us off?'

'Good idea.' Greg straightens shifting John slightly. He closes the door and tells the driver to go to Baker Street. He watches as the cab drives Mrs Hudson away from the toddlers. He feels rather than sees John watching it disappear into the traffic. 'Come on you two lets go inside.'

The entire department stops what they are doing when Greg and Donovan enter carrying the two toddlers. All the women melt when they see John clinging tightly to Greg's lapels. Behind Greg, Donovan set Sherlock on his feet and he immediately begins to run around the room. Greg groans. 'He's been wanting to do that since we left Whitehall.' Anderson raises his eyebrows as Sherlock goes near to him. The forensic officer relaxes as the raven-haired toddler retreats. Sherlock advances again and Anderson tenses. He retreats causing Anderson to relax. Sherlock repeats his movements.

'Uh oh. I think Sherlock's found a game to play.' Donovan can't quite keep the smirk from voice. John looks over and giggles around his thumb. Greg sets John on the floor and cricks his neck. He walks into his office and closing the door as John reaches out for a desk to hold on to. Donovan crouches next to him. 'Do you want a present?' John looks up at her. He nods, thumb firmly in his mouth. 'First you have to take your thumb out.' She imitates the movement. He copies her staring intently. 'Stay there.' She stands and quickly walks into the office and reappears carrying a shopping bag. John looks extremely interested. She squats down and opens the top of the bag tilting it towards the blonde boy.

'Teddy.'

'Choose one.'

'The bwown.' Donovan takes out the lighter teddy and offers it to John. He seizes it and hugs it tightly. He buries his face in it before looking up. 'Fank you.' He whispers. She smiles and looks over her shoulder. Sherlock is so absorbed in taunting Anderson he has realised that there is a present for him. Suddenly Anderson lashes out and knocks Sherlock off his feet. He lands hard on the floor and bursts into tears. Everyone in the room glares at Anderson.

'What? He was being annoying.'

'He's a kid. That's what kids do.' Donovan snaps gathering the crying boy up into her arms. 'It's okay. Ignore the nasty man.' She whispers into his hair. Greg sticks his head out of his office.

'What was?' He asks his gaze landing on Sherlock and Donovan. He takes Sherlock from Donovan and calms the boy against his shoulder as he turns in a circle. 'What happened?'

'Anderson snapped.' Donovan says simply. She reaches for the plastic bag and takes out the other teddy. She waits for Greg's back to face her and she presents the teddy to Sherlock. His hand shoots out to grasp it and falls to hang down Greg's back. She smiles at the tearful boy and turns on her heel. Her expression drops and her eyes harden. She slaps the forensic officer across the face. Hard. John watches her with awe in his eyes. 'He's a kid. You're a police officer. You. Do. Not. Hit. Children.' Greg carries a tearstained Sherlock into his office. Donovan picks up John and follows. They set the boys in a corner of his office with the teddy bears.

'Get the Chief.'

'Say they're your nephews sir?'

'Yes.' Donovan turns and leaves the office. She gives both boys a warm smile before she steps out.

Ten minutes later she returns with the Chief Superintendent in tow. 'What's going on Lestrade?' Sherlock scrambles up and runs to cling on to Donovan's legs. She bends and lifts him onto her hip

'Anderson struck my nephew sir.' Greg says nodding to Sherlock in Donovan's arms. 'Be careful Donovan, his left hip is sore.'

'It's where he landed?' Greg nods feeling a tug on his trouser leg. He smiles and lifts John into his arms. 'How old are they?'

'Three.'

'The age when they push all barriers.'

'Yes sir.'

'Shock was teasing him but it's no reason to lash out.' Donovan rubs Sherlock's back.

'Running forwards then retreating?' Donovan nods. 'Just like my nephew. The only you can do is ignore them.'

'I know sir. He's done it to me often enough.' Greg lies smoothly. Sherlock grins at him. 'Haven't you, you cheeky monster?' Sherlock giggles and waves at his teddy around. 'Spoilt little rotter. You've got another new teddy.' John squirms in Greg's grip. Greg sets him on the floor. The blonde-haired toddler immediately climbs onto Greg's chair and curls up. 'No, no, not there John. I need that chair.' Greg lifts the sleepy boy up and sets him in the chair on the opposite side of the desk. 'Sleep there, Johnny.' John curls up around his new teddy bear and immediately drifts off. Sherlock reaches out for Greg. 'No you play on the floor, until your Aunt Mary comes.' Sherlock pouts. 'Or no chips for your tea.' Sherlock immediately wriggles down from Donovan's hip and climbs up on the chair next to John. Greg laughs gently and covers them both with his coat. The Chief Superintendent quietly leaves the office followed by Donovan. Greg watches as the Chief summons Anderson for a quiet talk in his office. Greg looks down at the two toddlers sleeping in the chair. He smiles fondly down at them before sitting down behind his desk. Never before being this glad to have so much paperwork to do.

Over an hour later, a beautiful woman roughly the same age as Greg walks into the department. She glances around and spots a mop of raven curls in between the desks and Donovan pretending not to see him. 'Rawr.' The boy yells at her. The female officer pulls him onto her lap and cuddles him.

'I need a cuddle from the scary monster.' Sherlock giggles and hugs her.

'Me scarewy?'

'Yeah you were very scary.'

'Hi Sally.' Donovan jumps and sings round in her chair.

'Hi Mary, didn't hear you come in.'

'Which one is this?' Sherlock stares at her.

'I'm Shock.'

'Sherlock?' He nods vigorously

'Shock.'

'Where's your brother?' Sherlock's brow furrows as he thinks. Mary laughs gently and holds her arms out to him. 'Where's John?' She clarifies. His expression clears

'With Unc Stwarde.' Sherlock points at the office.

'Shall we go and find him?' Sherlock nods. Mary carries the boy into Greg's office.

'Hello Mary.' Greg rises and kisses his wife. 'You've found Sherlock I see.'

'Playing with Sally. Hey what's wrong?' She asks the boy in her arms as his expression darkens and he burrows into her arms. Greg glances out of the office.

'Anderson's back.' He mutters.

'What happened?'

'Shock was being an ordinary lively child and taunting Anderson.

'As kids do.'

'And he snapped and lashed out at him. He landed hard on his hip, but it seems to be all better now.' Greg tickles Sherlock's tummy making the boy giggle. 'Now, where's John?' Greg looks down looking for the blonde boy. 'Is he that side?' Mary shakes her head.

'Shock said he was in here.' Greg sticks his head out of his office.

'Donovan, have you seen John?' Donovan shakes her head. 'Anyone?' the other officers shakes their heads. Anderson ignores the request. 'Anderson?'

'What?' he turns to look at Greg.

'Have you seen John?'

'Might have.' He turns back to his work.

'Where?'

'Lift.'

'What do you mean?'

'He was standing next to the lift doors.' Anderson's expression is one of distaste. Donovan speed walks out of the department and looks around the landing space.

'John?' She calls. She heads down one floor and looks around.

'Wrong floor Donovan.' One of the uniformed officers joke spotting her.

'Funny guy.' She mutters sarcastically. 'Have you a little blonde boy carrying a light brown teddy?' The officers' expressions drop.

'No.' the one who spoke to her first says.'

'Yes.'

'Where?' she demands

'In the lift, it looked like he was with someone.'

'Pale jumper, jeans?'

'Yeah.'

'Brilliant blue eyes?'

'Yeah.'

'Which floor?'

'Two down.' Donovan pales.

'Child department.' She backs into the stair well and bolts down the stairs. She opens the door from the stairs and steps through. Immediately, she spots John sitting on one of the chairs his teddy on the one next to him. She sighs with relief and heads over to squat in front of him. 'Hello again.' He looks up and beams.

'You know him Sally?' a child protection officer asks her.

'He's DI Greg Lestrade's nephew. John.' John raises his arms to Donovan. 'Your Aunt and Uncle have been going spare looking for you.' John murmurs something. She leans her ear closer.

'That man pushed me in.' John repeats.

'Which man, the one who hurt Shock?' Donovan asks. John nods against her neck. She closes her eyes and breathes deeply. 'He pushed you into the lift?' she asks eyes closed. John nods again. 'Lets get you back to your uncle hey?' john nods again. Donovan stands and carries him away leaving his teddy. He begins to whimper. She stops. 'Hey what is it?'

'Teddy.' She looks back.

'Silly me, I forgot teddy.' The protection officer picks the teddy up and walks him over to John and Donovan. She hands it to him and he clutches it. Donovan shifts his position on her hip and carries him up the three flights of stairs. She walks into the homicide department a hero carrying John. Sherlock runs and hugs her legs. Greg lifts him out of her arms. She detangles herself from Sherlock and stalks over to Anderson and slaps him again.

'What was that for?' He protests.

'For nudging John into the lift and not bringing him back here.' She turns heel and offers a warm smile to the two toddlers both of them now in the arms of a Lestrade.


	6. Chapter 5, New Home

**Chapter 5**

**New Home**

Greg and Mary carry the toddler through Scotland Yard and out of the back entrance. Nearby Mary had parked her beloved and battered old car. Greg grins and shakes his head fondly. 'What?' she asks him unlocking the car with Sherlock still perched on her hip.

'I buy you a brand new up to date run a-round and you choose to drive this old thing to take the kids home.'

'The brand spanking new run around can't fit most of the stuff we need for them. Besides, this car has never let me down.'

'It belongs in a museum.'

'It belongs with me.' Greg laughs loudly and openly.

'I know. I love teasing you about it.' Mary pouts. Sherlock reaches up to hold her hair and giggles at the childish expression. 'Learn a lesson John, never tease women about their cars.' John snuggles closer into Greg's neck. He opens the rear door next to him. 'The blue or red seat John?'

'Wed.'

'Good.' Greg takes the teddy bear out of John's grip and places it on the car roof. John begins to protest but Greg quickly calms him. 'Just till we get you buckled in okay?' Greg places him in the child seat and secures the fastenings around John. He stands and returns the teddy to John who clutches it tightly. Greg glances up to see Mary doing the same thing. They share a smile and straighten. Greg steps back and closes John door before bending and giving the two toddlers a little wave.

'Greg?' Greg jumps and turns around his heart hammering.

'Donovan don't do that.' She gives with a rueful grin.

'Sorry, but this came for you.' She hands him an envelope and he takes it.

'Private messenger?'

'Yep.' Greg glances over the roof of the car at Mary, she raises her eyebrows. He opens the envelope.

'I did promise you financial help. This should do it.' He reads from the letter. 'Jesus Mycroft, I didn't think you meant this.'

'What?' Greg passes the envelope across the car roof to Mary. Her eyes bulge at the sum written neatly on the check accompanying the letter. 'How much?'

'Didn't think Sherlock was that rich. But going by the way he dresses maybe I did.'

'This says Harrods.' Mary's eyes gleam.

'And this says an address for a personal tailor. Mycroft's written that the Holmes' have used this company for generations. And he says that we are to give ourselves a couple of nice outfits on his bill.

'That's kind of him.' Donovan scoffs

'You haven't met big brother.'

'Donovan, you've only encountered Mycroft after insulting his little brother. He's positively charming when you don't insult his family. If you had come with us to see him earlier, you would have seen an entirely new side. A side I've never seen before. He took both of them on his lap and cuddled them for the entire conversation.' Donovan stares at Greg.

'Seriously? But he's the iceman.'

'At work and when Sherlock's being an upper-class pompous twerp probably. But give him a couple of cute toddlers and he'll melt.' Greg glances at Mary. Her eyes sparkle. 'Mary? What are you thinking?'

'I know the perfect girl for him.'

'Mary.' Greg warns. 'Down girl, we'll invite him to dinner tonight. You can get to know him but you will not play matchmaker.' Greg's phone beeps indicating a text has arrived. 'Ten quid says that's Mycroft.' He digs out his phone and bursts out laughing. Donovan peers over his shoulder.

'Huh?'

'What's it say?'

'"I don't mind"' He glances up at the CCTV camera. 'I do mind Mycroft.' His phone beeps again. 'Dinner at eight? Bedtime at seven thirty?'

'Why not?' Greg types _'dinner at eight, arrive at seven?'_ into a new message and sends it. He looks up at his wife. 'Shopping. You. Go. Now.' Mary beams and sinks into the driver's seat. She blows him a kiss and starts the car before driving out of the car park. Greg and Donovan turn and walk back into the yard. 'Right, a homicide investigation, with Anderson, oh joy of all joys.'

Mary pulls into the drive of her house. She stops just in front of the garage and the front door of the house opens. 'Sophia! Don't do that.' Mary yells as the slightly younger woman steps over the threshold. She spots the toddlers in the car and squeals.

'Are these they?' she runs over to the car and opens the door to the seat behind Mary's. 'Which one's this?'

'That's Sherlock. We call him Shock. The other's John.'

'So this is why you needed Rachel's baby stuff.' Sherlock waves his teddy about giggling nearly hitting Sophia in the face. 'Careful Shocky.' Sophia reaches in and unbuckles Sherlock from his seat. She picks him up and places him on her hip trapping the teddy between her and the toddler. 'I love your hair. Raven curls or what?' Sophia ruffles his hair. He shakes his head making them bounce. Mary walks to the other side and removes John from his seat. John reaches out for Sophia.

'Want to take two?' Sophia beams. Mary carries John over to her sister and helps them get situated. John and Sherlock each wind an arm around Sophia's neck.

'They are so cute.'

'Take them inside.' Mary tells her sister. 'Before they get cold.' Sophia spins carefully and carries the toddlers into the house.

'Welcome to your new home.' She whispers.

'Sitting room.' Mary shouts from the car.

'I know' Sophia mutters as she nudges the door open. 'I did help you.' Sherlock and John stare at the room. 'Brilliant isn't it? My big sis and her husband never use this room. It's your playroom now.' Sherlock squirms in Sophia's arms eager to play with his new toys. She lets him down and watches as he dives onto the pile of soft toys. He looks worried as re stands back up. He casts his gaze around before finding his teddy. He grabs the arm of his dark teddy and sets it on a chair out of the way. Sophia giggles at his antics and kneels down with John still on her hip. John climbs off her hip and wonders over to the small bookcase. He runs his small hand over the brightly coloured spines and selects one. He toddles back over to Sophia carrying it. He presents the book to her. 'Do you want me to read to you?' John nods. Sophia moves from the floor to the sofa. She places the book onto the arm and holds her hands out for John. He reaches for her and she lifts him onto the sofa beside her. 'Shocky? Would you like story?'

'Yeah.' Sherlock runs over and manages to climb onto the sofa by himself and he crawls over John onto Sophia's lap.

'Oi cheeky.' Both boys settle into Sophia as she opens the book. 'Basil the Great Mouse detective.'

'Don't read too much. We've got to go shopping for clothes.' Mary says from the door 'For the boys.' She adds as Sophia's eyes brighten.

'Wead!' Sherlock demands.

'Pease.' John adds wide-eyed. Mary shakes her head smiling. The boys already have four, make that five, people wrapped around their tiny fingers. She finishes unpacking the car and stands next to the door listen as Sophia changes her voice for each different character. She tiptoes in and watches the boys being entranced by the pictures and the sounds coming from Sophia's throat. She spots the end of a chapter and clears her throat.

'Time to stop there, boys.' The toddlers start to whine. 'We're going out.' The boys brighten up.

'To see Mycwoft?' Sherlock asks.

'No, to spend his money on you two.'


	7. Chapter 6, Losing One

****_**A/N:- Warning: Heartbreak situation ahead**_

**Chapter 6**

**Losing one**

Mary pulls the car back onto the drive, her mood sombre. Beside her Sophia is in floods of tears. She glances in the rear view mirror to see Sherlock crying silently. 'Soph, please. This isn't helping.'

'I'm sorry, I took my eyes off him.' she weeps.

'And what if they had taken Sherlock because you had run off looking for John? What then?' Mary asks her. She glances across at her younger sister and her heart melts. 'Come here.' Mary pulls Sophia into a hug and rubs her back. 'I'm not blaming you. It's a mistake anyone could make. You had two lively boys to keep an eye on. Calm down. I'll need your help with Shock.' Mary pulls back and swipes her thumb across Sophia's cheek wiping the tears away. 'Go and distract Sherlock. I need to ring Greg again.' Sophia nods and climbs out of the car. She walks round and opens Sherlock's door. He raises his eyes to hers and lifts his arms. She quickly unbuckles him and gathers him into an embrace. Sherlock begins to cry louder. Mary leans forward onto the steering wheel and runs through who might want to take a little boy in her mind. Sophia soothes Sherlock as they head into the house. Mary watches them and as soon as the front door closes she lets her tears fall. She becomes so absorbed in her tears she doesn't notice Greg pull up side her car, or him walking around and opening her door. He pulls her into a hug soothing her and murmurs nonsense into her hair.

'Where's Sherlock?' he asks when she's calmed down significantly.

'With Sophia. Inside.'

'How is he?'

'Distressed, upset, wants John. He needs John.' Mary mutters into his chest. She lifts her head. 'Does Mycroft know?'

'Yes, he's running though all the CCTV footage personally. Come on inside. I think we all need a cup of tea.' He pulls Mary out of the car and helps her into the house. They immediately head into the sitting room and Sherlock runs over to attach himself to Greg's legs.

'I'll make that cuppa.' Greg detangles himself from the three year old and lifts him into his arms.

'Hey, how are you?' he wipes the tears away from Sherlock's eyes.

'Want Don.' Fresh tears well up.

'We're looking for him. Okay?' Sherlock nods. Greg reaches for the lighter of the two teddies. 'Look after John's teddy for him yeah?' Sherlock clutches the teddy to his chest. Greg sits on the sofa. And positions Sherlock on his lap. 'Are you reading the great mouse detective?' Sherlock shakes his head.

'Don is.'

'And you were.' Sophia says sitting next to Greg. Sherlock shifts so he lies across both of them, head in Greg's lap and feet in Sophia's. He clutches John's teddy. Greg strokes Sherlock's hair soothingly. After a couple of minutes he falls into an exhausted sleep. Greg fixes his eyes on Sherlock's now vulnerable and innocent expression.

'Don't you blame yourself, Sophia Rose Morstan. This type of person will go to any length to get what they want. It isn't your fault.'

'Still feel like it.' She murmurs. Greg puts his arm around her making her rest her head on his shoulder. Mary walks in carrying two teacups. Greg unwinds his arm from Sophia's shoulders and accepts his. Sophia straightens and takes hers. Mary disappears to get hers and an orange juice for Sherlock.

'For when he wakes up.' she places the juice box on the arm of the sofa next to Greg and sits next to her sister.

'What happens now?'

'We wait.'

'That it?'

'We wait.' Greg reiterates. 'We wait and entertain Sherlock.'

Twenty minutes later, Sherlock begins to stir. He rolls onto his side almost falling off their laps. Greg catches and hoists him into sitting position with the toddler's head against Greg's chest. 'Do you want some orange juice Sherlock?' he nods. Greg retrieves the orange box and pierces the foil with the straw. He holds it front of Sherlock. The toddler's tiny hands take hold and he begins to drink. Suddenly the doorbell goes and Sherlock stops drinking. 'Keep drinking.' Greg encourages 'John would want you to keep drinking.' Sherlock nods solemnly and resumes. Mary rises and answers it returning with Mycroft in tow. Sherlock stops drinking and reaches for his brother. Mycroft takes him hold the boy to his chest. Sherlock buries his face in Mycroft's shoulder. Mycroft rocks him gently, stopping the tears before they can fall with a few whispered words.

'Left hand jacket pocket.' Mycroft mouths to Greg. He nods and reaches into the pocket feeling Mycroft's phone. The two women peer over Greg's shoulder as he looks at the picture. Greg stares at the face.

'That's-'

'Henry Watson. Yes.'

'Who?' Sophia asks.

'John's father, they hate each other not surprising after Henry kicked John out after he signed up for the army.' Greg tells her.

'That's horrible.'

'It gets worse.' Mycroft says from the floor still stroking the raven-curls of the toddler. 'John has an older brother by about ten, eleven years. The brother walked out on the family after an argument on John's sixth birthday.'

'Mycwoft.' Sherlock whispers. 'Where's Don?' Greg closes his eyes

'Address?'

'Not one on record since five years ago.'

'Nothing?'

'Nothing.'

'What about Harry?'

'Harry?'

'Harriet, John's sister.' Mary tells her sister.

'Flat 12, John Riley House, Wager Street.' Greg says standing up. 'She'll know where her father is.' Sherlock peers up at Greg. He lets go of Mycroft and clings to him instead. Greg gently detaches the toddler from his legs and squats in front of him. 'I'm going to try and find John.'

'No.' Sherlock wails. 'Pwease.' His chin starts to wobble.

'Hey, I need you to be brave and help look after your Auntie Mary and Auntie Sophie. I'm sure Mycroft will stay and help you.'

'Course I will.'

'Find Don?'

'I will Shock. I'll find John.' Greg kisses the mop of raven curls, stands and exits the house. Sherlock runs to the window and tries to climb up onto the windowsill. Sophie rises and scoops him up just as Greg closes the front door. Sherlock waves out at Greg and Greg waves back with false cheer. Sherlock leans back into Sophia's chest and watches as Greg backs out onto the road. Greg waves for a last time and Sherlock waves the car out of sight. Sophia lifts Sherlock off the windowsill and places him back onto the carpet.

'Can you pass the blocks by your elbow?' She asks Mycroft. He complies and lays them out in front of the toddler.

'What words can you spell Shocky?' Sophia asks him. Sherlock reaches for a couple of the blocks reluctantly but spells out "Mycof" The three adults giggle. Mycroft finds an _r_ and a _t_ and slips them in the right places. They play the game while they wait for Greg to return.


	8. Chapter 7, Siblings Watson

**_A/N:- I don't dedicate my chapters but dianaj2w's desperation to find out what happens has made me relent... this time. So this chapter is for dianaj2w... enjoy gal. _**

**Chapter 7**

**Siblings Watson**

Greg pulls up outside the front entrance of the building housing Harry's flat with Donovan in the passenger seat. Donovan climbs out immediately but he sits and waits for a couple of moments before climbing out. 'Ready?' she asks.

'Honestly? No.' Greg replies looking up at the building thankful he had a marked patrol car rather than an unmarked one. Donovan walks over to the intercom and presses the button for flat 12.

'Hello?' a voice asks from the speaker.

'Ms Watson?' Donovan asks.

'What do you want?'

'Police. It's about your brother, John.' Donovan waits for Harry to answer. She glances over her shoulder at Greg.

'Come up.' They hear the door buzz and each breath a sigh of relief. Donovan opens the door and they walk in. They climb the stairs to the top floor not wanting to risk the lift and are met by a woman who looks like a female version to the adult John.

'Harriet Watson?' Greg asks. The woman nods.

'You said it was about my brother.'

'It is. May we talk privately?'

'If we must.' She leads them into her flat.

Greg and Donovan sit on the sofa as she takes the best armchair facing them. 'I would offer you a drink, but I don't think you will be here long.' She states. 'Get to the point.'

'Your brother is missing.' Donovan states just as simply.

'No need to look further than his psycho flatmate.' Donovan glances at Greg.

'Ordinarily, Ms Watson, I would agree with you. But they both have a temporary affliction-'

'We hope.' Greg mutters under his breath

'And we need to find him.' Donovan finishes

'Johnny can look after himself. Why are you looking for him?' Greg and Donovan glance at each other. Harry's eyes narrow, 'What type of affliction?'

'He's been turned into a child.' Greg states simply. 'We don't know how.'

'The psycho flatmate, that's how.'

'Unfortunately, _Sherlock_ has also been turned into a child. We need to know where your father lives.'

'Haven't spoken to him for months.' Greg's mouth twitches. He breathes deeply.

'I know you and John don't quite see eye to eye on most matters, but I'm sure you are concerned for his well being. I know for a fact that John dislikes your father and we believe your father is involved with the disappearance.'

'How do you know they detest each other?'

'John was helping out at a crime scene and your father stormed up to him and started bawling him out. Saying that John was a waste of space etc. and tried to punch him. Your brother casually grabbed the arm and twisted him into an arm lock. Holding him there until we arrested your father fro attempted assault. John being the gentleman he is, didn't press charges because your father was so drunk.' Donovan states frankly. 'Now, where does your father live?'

'Still say the psycho flatmate did it.' Harry mutters. 'Hang on.' She pulls herself into a standing position teetering slightly but walks into her kitchen to grab her mobile. She dials a number and waits for the person on the other end to pick up. After a few moments she starts speaking 'Where's your digs? Kay. Nah, no problem.' She keeps talking for a while.

'John grew up with this? No wonder he joined the army.' Donovan whispers. Greg shushes her.

'He's just down the road. Number 75.' Greg stands and thanks her. Donovan follows suit. They try not to run down the stairs in their haste to close in on John and return him to Sherlock's side. They stride out of the communal entrance and spot a man with a similar stature to John but with short black hair leaning against the patrol car.

'DI Greg Lestrade?'

'Who are you?' Greg asks him.

'Dom Watson born Henry Dominic Watson. Everyone just calls me Dom. I'm John's big brother.' Greg relaxes.

'May I ask why you're here?'

'John managed to contact me after coming home from Afghanistan. He had to return but we've stayed in contact with letters. He stopped writing before he sent one and said he'd been invalided home and had found flatmate, he pointed me to his blog. We'd agreed to meet up this morning but he didn't show. It's not like him, I know ex-army.'

'You went to the yard and they pointed you here.'

'Pretty much.'

'Get in. We'll fill you in on the way.' Greg unlocks the car and the three of them climb in.

Five minutes, later Greg parks the car just down the street from where they had met Dom. They climb out of the car and Dom puts his finger to his lips. 'Listen.' He murmurs. 'If I'm right that's John.'

'You know his cry better than us.' Greg walks up the ramp to the front door and knocks. The cry falters before continuing as strong as ever.

'That's definitely John.' Greg pounds on the door.

'OPEN UP! POLICE.' Greg shouts through the letterbox. 'Thank god for the noise complaint. He mutters. Dom grabs his arm,

'Is it me or is that cry moving?'

'He's right' Donovan says after a couple of seconds. She dashes back to the road and along the pavement to the corner. 'HEY!' She shouts running down the street. The two men glance at each other before vaulting the rails. They chase after the man carrying a blonde haired toddler. Greg skids to a stop before taking out his phone. Dom stops beside him

'Wha-' Greg quietens him.

'DONOVAN!' He shouts. 'COME HERE.' The men watch her skid to a stop and turn to face them. Greg holds up his phone and she runs back to them.

'Our secret weapon?'

'Yep.' Greg presses the call button. 'Mycroft. CCTV. Wager Street toward Bow Common Lane westbound. Yeah call me back. What?' Greg looks at Dom. 'Oh that's Dom, John's older brother. Yeah, the one that walked out.' Greg hangs up the phone.

'You've heard about me then?'

'After an altercation between John and your father at a crime scene.'

'What now?' Dom asks.

'We introduce you to Sherlock. We're going back to the house.' Greg leads them back to the car and they drive away.


	9. Chapter 8, Finding John

**Chapter 8**

**Finding John**

Greg pulls the patrol car outside his house and climbs out. He looks at the window to the sitting room. He spots a mop of curls bouncing trying to get up on the windowsill. Greg smiles and nods towards the window. Dom and Donovan look toward the window and watch as Mycroft lifts Sherlock to look out through the glass. Greg lip reads Sherlock's squeal of joy and watches him wriggle to be put down. Mycroft complies and the two of them disappear from the window. 'Come on.' He speaks the others. They head towards the door. By the time they get halfway there. The door is open and a toddler with a mop of raven curls is sprinting towards them. Greg scoops him up before he can attach himself to Greg's legs. 'This is Sherlock.'

'Where's Don?' Greg tickles under Sherlock chin generating a storm of giggles from the boy. He buries his head under Greg's chin

'Have you been good?' Sherlock nods, his curls tickling the underneath of Greg's chin. From his position Sherlock eyes up Dom. Dom smiles warmly at Sherlock who pulls his head up and stares into Greg's eyes.

'Where's Don?'

'Let's go inside.'

'Stwade!' Sherlock's eyes tear up. 'Where's Don?' Dom takes Sherlock out of Greg's arms and sits him on his hip.

'Hey Sherlock, I'm John's big brother.'

'Don's bwother?'

'Yeah. I'm helping to look for him. Even nearly found him. Shouldn't be long now okay.' Sherlock nods tearfully. 'Why don't you show me who smart you are?' Sherlock wriggles down form Dom's hip and grabs his hand to pull him into the house. Dom glances back at Greg and Donovan and grins.

'I really thought he was going to start crying again.' Greg mutters as he and Donovan walks to the door

'So did I.'

'Any luck Mycroft?'

'Anthea is coordinating the search. She's got people on the ground looking "we're closing in" was the last text she sent.' Mycroft looks at his watch. 'Five minutes ago.' Mycroft sighs.

'We'll find him. Mycroft. We will.' Mycroft steps back to let them in. Donovan is the last in and closes the door behind her. Mary pokes her head out of the playroom and smiles.

'There's a large lasagne in the oven. Should be enough for everyone.' On cue Greg's stomach rumbles making everyone laugh, relaxing the tense atmosphere. 'Sophia's preparing fish fingers and chips for Shock's dinner. He can eat in the playroom with us.' Greg smiles and walks into the playroom.

'How has be been?'

'Not that bad, he refused to let us read the great mouse detective to him. And apart from running to you he's hasn't let go of John's teddy.'

'Is Don's book.' Sherlock's stubborn voice says. 'Tweasure pwease Mycwoft.'

'Treasure?' Donovan asks.

'He means Treasure Island, Ms Donovan.' Mycroft says as Sherlock tows him back into the playroom.

'Okay, maybe he isn't The Iceman so much after all.' Mary beckons her into the playroom and Donovan is aghast to see the Holmes brothers settled into a beanbag enjoying the adventures of Jim Hawkins and his quest to find the pirate treasure.

'No, he's not.' Greg murmurs. 'You just have to find the right key to his heart.' He slips into the room and settles himself leaning on the wall next to Mycroft's beanbag and listens to the story. Donovan and Mary join him on the floor. Sophia enters the room carrying a plate of fish fingers and chips with carrot sticks for Sherlock. Mycroft stops reading long enough to get the plate settled and Sherlock to start eating. The toddler looks up at his brother silently pleading for him to carry on reading. Mycroft resumes the reading. Ignoring the incoming text on his phone. However Greg doesn't and filches the phone to read the text. Greg smiles with a sigh of relief, which tells Mycroft everything. Greg passes the phone around and everyone relaxes. _Got John, taking him to McDonalds. ETA, 20:15._ Sophia makes eye contact with Greg.

'Do we tell him?' She mouths. Greg shakes his head. 'Why?' Greg swipes Mycroft's phone from her and types his answers before sliding it across the floor to her. She bends down and reads it. _He'll want to stay up. He needs to have a full nights sleep._ Her expression becomes one of understanding and she hands the mobile back and Greg clears the message. On Mycroft's lap Sherlock swallows his last mouthful and yawns. He resettles and snuggles back into his brother. Mary levers herself to her feet using Greg's legs. She swiftly walks out of the playroom and from his place on the floor Greg can see her climb the stairs. Closing his eyes he tunes out the sound of Mycroft's voice preferring to listen to Mary's movements above them. He smiles as he works out her actions.

'Why you smiling Stwade?' Sherlock's voice pierces his thoughts. He opens them and looks at the toddler

'I'm thinking of you. Shock.'

'No, you're not.'

'Okay, you and John with your Auntie Mary earlier.'

'I wantee bed.'

'In a couple of minutes.' Greg says. 'Wait for Auntie Mary.'

'Okay. Mycwoft wead.' Mycroft chuckles into his brother's hair and resumes. Mycroft reads until Sherlock is sounds asleep in his arms. Mycroft marks the page and Greg picks up the sleeping boy. He carries him out of the room and up to the room Mary and Sophia had prepared earlier that day. The entire room is silent as Sherlock is carried out.

'Was he always like that?' Donovan asks as Greg ascends the stairs.

'Yes.' Mycroft answers sadly. 'Unfortunately, school knocked it out of him then, my leaving for university and the drug use. Our parents were of the school that said "keep them at arm's length until they're of age". It killed his personality he needed affection. Maybe he can get it now.' Mycroft sighs and laughs. 'I barely know you lot and I'm baring my soul.'

'If it makes you feel better Mr Holmes, right now I'm regretting every word I spoke in hatred and every time I insulted him.' Mycroft nods retrieving his mobile. He accesses the picture archive. One of the pictures was taken while Sherlock was in the middle of spelling out a rather long sentence.

An hour later, they are all squeezed around the dinner table when a knock sounds at the door. 'Should be Anthea and John.' Mycroft comments. Greg rises from the table stopping Mary from her awkward position. Dom quickly follows him.

'He's my brother.' Dom gets in before Lestrade says anything. Greg smiles. And leads the way to the door. Greg opens it and sure enough Anthea is standing there with a sleeping John. Dom steps past Greg and takes the sleeping blonde boy off Anthea. John stirs and wakes up a bit. He starts to struggle and Dom swiftly kneels down. 'John.' He whispers. 'It's Dominic. Do you remember me?' John screws his face up as he thinks. 'It doesn't matter. Bedtime eh?' John nods and reaches for Dom.

'I think he might do.' Greg says quietly, Dom nods and carries him up the stairs and waits at the top. 'There's some lasagne for you in the kitchen. Just serve yourself.'

'Thanks.' She replies gratefully. Greg hurries up the stairs and leads Dom into the kid's room. John looks around sleepily.

'Look, John. There's Sherlock.' Dom whispers to him. John beams. Dom kisses the side of his head as he sets on the side of his bed. Dom peels off John's jumper and t-shirt. Greg hands him a pyjama top with Thomas the tank engine on it. Dom slips it over John's head and eases his arms into the sleeves. Dom gentles eases John back onto the bed and takes the little pair of jeans off. Greg swaps the jeans for the pyjama trousers and Dom eases them over John's little legs. Dom plants another kiss on the blonde hair before repositioning the toddler properly in the bed and drawing the covers over him. John drifts back off to sleep and Dom switches on a night lamp. Greg and he tiptoe out and close the door behind them. They return downstairs to finish their meals.


	10. Chapter 9, Nightmare Monsters

**Chapter 9**

**Nightmare Monsters**

Greg and Mary climb the stairs as they head to bed after they had seen the last person out. Greg glances through the open door of the playroom. He spots Sherlock's dark-brown teddy sitting on the chair where Sherlock had placed it before the fated shopping trip. 'John will want his teddy back.' Greg whispers to Mary. She glances into the playroom and carries on up the stairs. Greg smiles and hurries back down the stairs and into the playroom. He scoops up Sherlock's teddy and hugs it. Mary had tiptoed back to the middle step and sat down at the same time as Greg had entered the playroom. Greg turns and spots Mary laughing silently at him. Greg beams at her, his expression scarily similar to the big smiles from the toddlers.

'Big kid.' She mouths. Greg sticks his tongue out at her and re-joins her on the stairs. Together they finish climbing and tiptoe into the kid's room. Greg eases the light-brown teddy from under Sherlock's little arm. A pout creeps onto the sleeping face but disappears when Greg replaces it with the darker ted. He carefully throws John's teddy to Mary who tucks it in beside John. The blonde-haired toddler instinctively wraps his arm around the bear and cuddles it close. As one both toddler turn over and face each other across the room. Greg and Mary smile fondly and quietly leave the room. Mary takes one last look before closing the door making sure that a toddler can open door and Greg pulls her into a hug. 'I really want kids.' She whispers.

'I know. We will, somehow.' Greg whispers back.

'We've got them now, more or less.'

'And when they're back to normal?'

'I don't want to think about it Greg. Not yet.' Greg doesn't answer but pulls her to the door of their bedroom.

'Let's sleep and enjoy our time with them in the morning.'

At roughly four o'clock in the morning John begins to grizzle in his sleep. He trashes his head from side to side and whimpers. He shouts out a couple of time waking Sherlock from his sleep. Sherlock sits up in his bed and rubs his eyes. He peers across at the other bed and smiles broadly at the figure in the other bed before his expression becomes extremely worried. He watches for a couple of minutes before pushing his covers back. He grabs his teddy and holds on to the covers and as he eases himself down from the mattress. He toddles across the room nearly tripping over John's teddy having been thrown by John at the beginning of his nightmare. He picks up the bear and crosses the rest of the room to John's bed. 'Don.' He grabs John's shoulder and shakes it. 'Don. Wake up Don.' John thrashes again knocking Sherlock backwards. Tears well up in the alert toddler's eyes, but he brushes them away and looks around. Sherlock picks up John's teddy from where he had dropped it to grab John and tucks it beside his friend. He glances to the door and sees that it is ajar. He toddles over and grabs the side of the door. He looks back at his friend tossing around in the bed and opens the door to find Greg and Mary.

Greg awakes to someone shaking him. He keeps his eyes closed but stays alert as he tries to work out who it is. 'Stwade.' Greg opens his eyes and sees the scared face of Sherlock. He reaches his arms out to Sherlock. But the toddler shakes his head and looks over at the door. Greg wraps an arm around the little body anyway and pulls himself into a seated position. 'Don.' Sherlock whispers.

'What about John?' Greg asks

'Don scared.' Sherlock looks up at Greg's face with scared and worried eyes. Sherlock snuggles into Greg's chest and clutches at him. Greg reaches over and strokes Mary's arm. She murmurs something, turns over and opens her eyes to see Sherlock in Greg's arms.

'Nightmare Shock?' she asks. Sherlock shakes his head.

'Don is.' Mary is wide-awake.

'John's having a nightmare?' Sherlock nods sadly. Mary pulls herself up and rubs her eyes. Greg stops her from getting out of bed. 'I'll go. Look after Shock.' Sherlock scrambles across into Mary's arms letting Greg out from under the covers. Mary wriggles down and draws the covers up and over herself and the toddler. Sherlock snuggles down into the warm cocoon and plays with Mary's hair. Greg steps on Sherlock's teddy as he makes his way to the door. He bends down and picks it up and set it next to Sherlock. The toddler grabs it and cuddles it still playing with the hair with one hand. Mary smiles up at her husband who smiles back and leaves the room. He returns moments later with sobbing John against his shoulder. Sherlock stops playing with Mary's hair and rolls onto his back and watches the two of them. Greg sits back on the bed on top of the covers still soothing the frightened boy. Once the tears have stopped Greg wipes the ones staining his cheeks away.

'What was it John?' Greg whispers.

'Scawy.' The boy whispers.

'What happened John?'

'Mummy and Daddy.'

'What about them John?' Mary asks softly

'Loud. Bangs.' John starts whimpering again. Greg rubs his back

'Did they shout?' John nods. 'And throw things?' he nods again. Mary and Greg exchange concerned glances.

'Did they ever hurt you John?' Greg asks softly. John doesn't answer and burrows into Greg's arms, which is an answer in itself. Mary sits up and picks John off Greg's lap. She cuddles him singing softly into his hair. Sherlock strokes John's leg and offers him his teddy bear. John clutches it tightly. The Lestrade's share a knowing glance and Greg leaves for the kitchen downstairs.

'Uncle Greg's gone to get some warm milk for our favourite boys.' John smiles sadly and Sherlock beams. Mary rocks the blonde boy singing. Sherlock snuggles into her side. She wraps her arm around him and rocks him as well.

Downstairs, Greg picks up the handset for the landline. He glances at the clock and swears softly. 'I hope you're still awake Mr Holmes.' he quickly dials the number and put the phone to his ear. While he waits for someone to pick up, he bustles around the kitchen and prepares two small cups for warmed milk.

'Hello.'

'Mycroft, it's Greg.'

'Yes, Gregory?'

'Has John ever spoken about his childhood to you or his father?'

'Gregory, Both Sherlock and John tend not to share personal stuff with me.'

'Let me try again, in your background research on John have you ever come across potential child abuse, either physical or mental?'

'Ah, no. Well…'

'Mycroft?'

'Not explicit abuse. It was found that his parents often fought, throwing things at door and each other. Hit each other.'

'Enough to scare a small child?'

'Yes. I take John has had a nightmare.'

'Yep, but neither Mary nor I heard it. It woke Shock up.'

'He's learned that no one will come whether loud or quiet.'

'I hope he can unlearn it. Honestly Mycroft it scares me. I knew some of it from the altercation between John and his father at a crime scene but this-'

'Captain John Watson doesn't spread his emotional baggage around it seems. Keep me informed Detective Inspector.'

'I will Mycroft. Umm, I take it you Mr Watson the elder in your custody?'

'You are correct. Why do you ask?'

'Don't be too lenient. If I get my hands on him, I think he would prefer you over me.' Mycroft chuckles down the line.

'Gregory Lestrade, I sincerely doubt that whatever I do will be lenient. I consider John Watson as the politer of my younger brothers. However if you broadcast that statement I will deny all knowledge.' It's Greg's turn to laugh.

'Understood. Good night Mycroft.'

'Good Morning Gregory.'

'Get some sleep.' Greg hands up and sets the handset back into its cradle. He finishes warming the milk and pours it into the two cups. He carries them back upstairs to the master room and smiles at seeing the three of them asleep in a small pile. He carefully places the cups on the bedside table on Mary's side and repositions the two small boys and Mary so they will be comfortable when they wake. He slips into bed on his side and curls around Sherlock and quickly falls asleep himself.


	11. Chapter 10, Good Morning

**Chapter 10**

**Good Morning**

Greg wakes to the sound of his alarm blaring. Refusing to open his eyes he reaches his hand out behind him and fumbles for the snooze button trying to get it off before the boys can wake. He manages to find the button but no such luck for the boys. Greg feels Sherlock rolling into him and grabbing the lapels of his pyjama shirt and tugging on them. The tired detective inspector attempts to ignore the tugs and drift off back to sleep. He groans and gives in. He opens his eyes to look into the orbs of Sherlock's. The toddler grins and gives another tug in victory. 'Yeah, yeah.' Greg mutters as he detangles the cloth from Sherlock's fist. Greg lifts his head from the pillow to look across at Mary and John. He rolls over to sit on the side of the bed and he stands up. Sherlock watches him. As Greg turns to face the bed again Sherlock lifts his arms. Greg smiles and hoists the raven-haired boy into his arms. John stirs feeling the mattress move as Sherlock's weight is removed. Greg reaches down and strokes the blonde hair until the boy stills and stays asleep. He carries Sherlock into the bathroom and looks between the sink and bathtub. He purses his lips and makes a decision. He keeps Sherlock on his hip as he runs hot and cold water into the tub. As they wait for it to fill Greg brushes his teeth then Sherlock's little choppers. He undresses Sherlock and wraps him in a towel to keep him warm. Greg glances at the water level and swirls his hand in the water to test the temperature. Deeming it satisfactory he unwinds the towel and lifts Sherlock into the tub. Sherlock happily sits in the water and slaps his hands on the water splashing Greg. 'Oi, monster. Stop that.'

'Bubbles.' Sherlock demands.

'Pardon?'

'Bubbles, pwease.' Sherlock beams his big smile and Greg relents. He pours of the bubble bath into the water and swirls it around. He encourages Sherlock to copy his actions. Sherlock stops splashing and pushes the water against the sides making the foam of bubbles grow. Once the top of the water is covered with the foam Greg gently distracts Sherlock from making more by grabbing one of Mary's rubber ducks. Sherlock picks it out of the water and examines it closely. Greg grabs the bottle of shampoo. Sherlock looks up at him warily daring him to use the shampoo on him. Greg raises his eyebrow. 'You're going to be good aren't you?' Sherlock keeps looking at him. 'John will behave properly when it's his turn. Will you?' Sherlock nods reluctantly and lets Greg wet his curls ready for the shampoo. He pours a small amount onto his hands and runs them together before massaging the shampoo into the curls. He reaches for a cup and moves some of the foam to create a well for him to dip the cup in. he places his other hand above Sherlock's eyes to stop any water or shampoo from going into the toddler's eyes.

'Aww sweet.' Greg glances up while keeping Sherlock's head still to see Mary carrying a sleepy John.

'You're welcome to join in.' he comments pouring water from the cup over Sherlock's head. The wet toddler squeals with joy. Greg repeats the action until all the shampoo is out. He reaches for a flannel and wipes the streams of water away from Sherlock's face.

'Why would I?' Mary asks cheekily as she edges around Greg. Greg slides Sherlock backwards to make room for John. He also flicks some water at his wife

'Don't be cheeky.' Mary pulls the pyjama top of John and speedily removes the trousers. She slides him into the water opposite Sherlock. The two boys slash each other. Greg reaches for the conditioner and Mary takes the cup. She dampens John's hair and shampoos it. Mary and Greg take turns to use to cup to pour water over their respective toddlers hair. Once Greg is satisfied that Sherlock's curls are clean he hoists the boy out of the water and wraps him up in the towel. He takes a smaller one and rubs it over the boy's hair. He picks the boy up still wrapped in the towel and scoops the two sets of pjs up. He carries them into the boy's room and selects a set of clothes for Sherlock to wear. To save Mary time he picks an outfit for John as well.

Mary carries john into the boy's room just as Greg is easing Sherlock's arms into the sleeves of a mini shirt. He tucks it into Sherlock's trousers and hold up the jacket for Sherlock to see. 'Now or later.' Sherlock looks at the jacket thoughtfully.

'Now.' Mary laughs gently as she eases John's clothes onto him. When she moves onto his socks and shoes, John grabs his teddy from the pillow and holds it close. The husband and wife finish dressing their respective toddlers at the same time.

'I'll just get their milk, they didn't drink earlier.' Greg kisses his wife and fetches the cups of milk. He hands one to John and retains Sherlock's.

'What time did Sherlock wake you?'

'Just now or-'

'With the nightmare.'

'Half three I think, could have been four.' Mary sets John on the bedroom floor. Sherlock climbs down himself. He toddles over to Greg and reaches up for the milk. Greg hands it to him and Sherlock joins John sitting on the floor.

'Get dressed love, you're late for work.' Greg pulls a face.

'I want to stay with you and the boys.'

'I bet Donovan wouldn't mind playing with them either. Mycroft has invited us to lunch. The four of us and Dom.'

'Dommy?' John asks. Greg and Mary look at him.

'Do you mean Dominic?' John nods.

'Dommy. Big brover, Dommy.'

'That's right he was here last night. Do you remember?' John screws his face up and nods smiling.

'He pwut me to bed.'

'Good lad, drink your milk.' Greg ruffles John's hair. He leaves the room to get dressed himself. Ten minutes later, he renters dressed in his suits. 'You wants me to carry them to the playroom?' both toddlers put up their spare hands. Greg selects John and heaves him up of his hip. John cup drinking form the cup and holds the teddy over Greg's back. Mary picks up Sherlock who's pouting around the cup in his mouth. Greg leads them downstairs and into the playroom. As soon as his feet touches the ground John toddles off to the sofa and climbs up it. He curls up into the corner and guzzles the last of his milk. Mary steps into the room and smiles at John on the sofa.

'Work. Go. Now. Pop tart in the toaster.' Greg plants a kiss on her cheek.

'Have fun. Boys, be good' He dodges around her and darts into the kitchen to grab his breakfast. Mary carries Sherlock over to the window to wave Greg off. John scrambles up from his seat to stand and watch Greg pull off the drive munching on the pop tart. Greg waves and the three of them wave until he turns the corner.


	12. Chapter 11, Work Restarts

**Chapter 11**

**Work Restarts**

Greg walks into the homicide department of Scotland Yard a trifle late. Most of the other police officers notice how tired he looks compared to normal but decide not to say anything. However, Anderson seems to have lost that bit of common sense. 'Sir, you look like crap.'

'Yes, thank you. Anderson. I hadn't noticed.' Greg replies sarcastically. Donovan turns on Anderson.

'Have you no respect? He's probably been up with one of the kids.'

'He should have dumped them in a home.' Donovan seethes silently and clenches her fist. One of the female officers places a calming hand on her shoulder.

'Anderson, have you ever seen DI Lestrade walk away from anything? Kids, abuse victims, murder victims?' Anderson reluctantly shakes his head. 'Two little boys need his help. Of course he's going to do what he can to help them. Get him a coffee Donovan. We'll umm you know.' Donovan smirks and stalks out of the department to find the nice coffee. She returns ten minutes later carrying Greg's favourite work mug full of aromatic freshly ground coffee. She glances up and nods at Greg's office door. The officer who calmed her down darts over and opens it.

'What?' He starts to ask but Donovan enters with the mug of coffee. The smell hit's Greg's nostrils and he sighs. 'Just what I needed thanks Sally.' She places it on his desk. He grabs and takes a mouthful. He swallows savouring the flavour.

'Courtesy of the canteen, their private machine apparently.' The officer closes the door behind her leaving the two of them in private. 'Can we get Anderson put on suspension?'

'He may be annoying and tactless but we do need him.'

'Thought you would say that.' Greg eyes her.

'What he done this time?'

'Oh only insult you, and said that you should have dumped Sherlock and John in a home. Anyone with an iota of sight or sense can see how you care for children. How are they?'

'Bubbly and cheeky this morning.' Greg shakes his head fondly. 'So glad I was wearing my nightwear when I bathed Sherlock.'

'Splasher?'

'Oh yeah. Had to bribe him to make sure I could wash his hair.' Donovan raises her eyebrows. 'Oh not with toys or food. It seems Sherlock has to be the best at everything even as a kid. Just said John would behave a lot better than he would.'

'Typical.'

'Even pouted when I carried john down the stairs.' Donovan snorts. Greg savours another mouthful of coffee. 'Having said that. Not a quiet night.'

'Nightmares?'

'Nightmare, singular.' He swipes his forefinger and thumb over his eyes to pinch the bridge of his nose. 'John had a severe nightmare. Didn't shout out loudly but he did shout and woke Sherlock. I think Sherlock tried to wake him before coming to find Mary and me. We didn't hear a thing.'

'Mr Holmes know?'

'Yeah. Rang him up when I went to get milk for the boys to lull them back to sleep.'

'May I ask what it was about?'

'His parents, during his first childhood.' Donovan cringes. 'Yeah, we're not actually sure if there was.' Greg breathes a heavy sigh. 'However, we can't sit in here talking all day. We've got work to do.' Greg rises from his desk and follows Donovan out of his office. 'Right, where are we up to in this investigation?' Anderson opens his mouth. 'Anderson think carefully before speaking. Say anything about the kids, and you'll wish you had never been born. Continue.'

'I wasn't.' he grumbles. 'DNA samples have come back, no matches. Still running the swabs from the nails.'

'Good. Keep on that. House to house?'

'Nothing definite. Still got four or so houses to visit.' Donovan speaks up.

'Suspects?'

'Looking for victim's family, until then we don't have anything.'

'Anderson, tell me you've run the DNA of the victim, not just the swabs of the scene.'

'Still running. Plenty of partial matches but no full.'

'Could have said that before.' A gentleman in a three pieces suit enters the main floor of the department and makes eye contact with Greg. Greg slides his eyes towards his office. 'Right. Carry on, find me witnesses, get me that name, locate that break that will close the case.'

'Yes sir.' A multitude of voices chorus.

'Sally, keep an eye on Anderson.' Greg asks in a low voice.

'Yes, sir.' Greg heads back into his office. Mycroft has situated himself into the guest chair.

'Find anything?'

'Not really.'

'Meaning?'

'I think if there was abuse, it was verbal.' Mycroft looks over his shoulder on to the department floor. 'Shouldn't Ms Donovan be in here? She seems rather attached to young Sherlock and John.'

'I need her out there.'

'We may need her here.'

'She's my best sergeant.'

'All the more reason for her to be here with us.' Greg growls.

'I hate being manipulated Mycroft.'

'It was not my intention to do so. Merely to help you refrain from repeating everything we say to her.' Greg sticks his head out of his office.

'DONOVAN!'

'What?'

'In here, now. Get Parker to do what we discussed.' Donovan rolls her eyes and murmurs with Parker before hurrying into the office.

'Mr Holmes.'

'Ms Donovan.'

'Why?'

'Mycroft what were you going to say?'

'Well, Ms Donovan, I assume Gregory has told you about the nightmare.'

'Yeah.'

'And the possible child abuse.'

'Yes. I told her everything.'

'The possibility of abuse was implied.'

'Even so, after Greg rang me, I went through every single document I could lay my hands on to do with John Watson's early life.'

'And?'

'As I said before you came in Ms Donovan, if there was abuse, it was verbal.'

'Would Dom know?'

'Almost definitely Sally, do you want to ask him? Sorry, I just.'

'I know Greg.'

'Does John talk to you when he and Sherlock consult on cases with kids.'

'No, not really, often I'm too busy insulting Sherlock or leave the kids with him as he checks them over for physical harm. He talks to them and they open up to him but he always stops when I approach.'

'The possibility is there.'

'Definitely. I always thought so but I wasn't sure how to bring it up with him.'

'He's a private man.' Mycroft comments

'Would Sherlock have known?' Greg asks

'Maybe.' Someone knocks on the office door. Donovan opens it to reveal Anderson standing there.

'Well?'

'The victim's DNA is through.'

'And?'

'Hope Watson.'

'Hope _Watson_?' Mycroft asks.

'Yes.' Anderson stares at Mycroft. 'Who are you?'

'You don't need to know.'

'Thank you, Anderson. Let me know when you get the samples back.'

'Yes sir.' Donovan closes the door in his face.

'Who is she?'

'John's mother.' Greg and Donovan gape at Mycroft. 'When's Dom getting here?'

'Twelve thirty, same as Mary with the kids.'

'Ring him. Get him here earlier. Now if you can.' another knock at the door disturbs them. 'You need a secretary inspector.'

'I wish Mycroft.'

'Ms Donovan, if you please.'

'For god's sake, call me Sally.' She bursts out.

'As you wish Sally, then Mycroft for you?' Donovan inclines her head and opens the door. She raises her eyebrows.

'O. K.'

'May I ask what are you doing here?' Mycroft asks. Dom smiles.

'Remember why I sort you out yesterday Greg?'

'Yeah.' Greg's confusion clears. 'You were due to meet up with your mother.'

'Yes.' Dom enters the office. Donovan closes the door. He glances around the room and a picture on the desk catches his eye. Greg hastily covers it with other papers.

'This is… fortunate.' Mycroft says carefully.

'Fortunate how Mycroft?' Greg demands. He runs his hand through his hair.

'I'm sure you know my brother does not appreciate bullshit. I'm the same.' he defiantly stares at the Detective Inspector and Government Official. Donovan places her hand on Dom's shoulder.

'You might want to sit down. Mycroft?' Mycroft generously rises from the chair and Dom sinks into it. He looks up at Donovan.

'What is it?' She glances at Greg. He nods subtly

'We believe we know where your mother is.'

'Where?'

'Where did your mother live?' Dom screws his eyes up.

'Um, Dagenham. She said she didn't want to meet anywhere in Dagenham. She didn't want me to risk meeting that bastard. Why?' Greg looks for a close up of his murder victim.

'Is this her?' Dom barely glances at it.

'Yes.' He replies without hesitation. 'What happened?'

'She was murdered Dom.' Dom puts his head in his hands fighting back tears. The three others in the office allow him time to pull himself together.

'The Watson family just can't get a break right?' he jokes weakly. Greg, Donovan and Mycroft smile. Dom breathes deeply and blows it out of his mouth. 'Does anyone else know?'

'No. We only found out her name a few minutes before you arrived. She was killed the day before yesterday. Where were you?'

'When exactly?'

'Between 11pm and 1am.'

'Err, on my way home from the cinema, it was a lord of the rings marathon. We privately hired the screen in the cinema on Haymarket. I caught a cab with my partner and two of my friends who live near me.'

'Where do you live?'

'14 Hay's Mews, Mayfair. My partner lives with me and my friends live 15 Hill Street.'

'Names?'

'Hayley Carmichael, Jonathon Davies and Sebastian Oakland.'

'Thanks. It's just routine, bur I'll need you to go through it again.'

'No need inspector, I've noted everything down.'


	13. Chapter 12, Coming Together

**Chapter 12**

**Coming Together**

Dom, Greg and Mycroft sit in Greg's office waiting for the arrival of Mary, Sherlock and John. Donovan is at her desk sorting through paperwork when the door to the lift opens slightly. She shifts subtly in her seat to keep her eye on the mop of raven curls just visible above the desktops. She hears a stifled giggle from the wrong corner of the room and shifts her head in that direction. In her peripheral vision she spots the mop of curls move closer. She quickly works out that the toddlers are trying to sneak up on her and she is more than happy to play along. It takes ten minutes for John to successfully sneak up on her. He pounces on her with a loud 'Rawr.' She roars back gathering him into her arms. Sherlock closes the distance between him and her and encloses himself into her arms. She pulls back to look into their faces.

'Did you run away from Mary?' Two suspiciously innocent expressions look back at her.

'No.' Sherlock says and John shakes his head.

'Where is she?' they point to the door. She spins herself to face the door and sure enough Mary is standing between the doors, holding one open.

'They play the creeping game?' Donovan nods 'Who won?'

'Me.' John sings out. Greg appears at the door to his office.

'Stwade.' Sherlock cries launching himself into Greg's arms. Dom steps up behind the DI.

'Dommy.' John's expression is pure joy. Donovan sets the boy on his feet and he runs to cling onto Dom's legs. He lifts John up and the two brothers cuddle.

'You remember me then?' Dom whispers. John nods into his neck.

'You coming lunge?'

'Do you want me to?'

'Yeah.'

'Then I will.'

'Hi Mycoff.'

'Hello John, Sherlock.'

'Mycwoft.' Greg glances at the clock.

'Come on, boys. We have an appointment at 221 Baker Street.'

'Why?' Sherlock asks.

'Mrs Hudson's going on holiday, remember?' Sherlock nods. Greg carries the dark-haired toddler over to his wife and sets him on the floor. 'Ready for lunch?'

'More than ready.' Dom strokes John's back feeling his shake. He glances over his shoulder at Mycroft and indicates his need for privacy. Mycroft nods and silently edges past the two brothers out of the office, closing the door behind him.

'What going on?' Greg asks.

'We'll wait for them down stairs, Gregory.' Mycroft avoids the question. Greg nods knowing that he won't get anything more from him. He herds his wife and impromptu nephew out of the department and down to the ground floor. Mycroft follows thinking deeply.

In the office Dom sits in Greg's chair and settles his little brother on his lap. He rocks him gently. Tears stream down John's cheeks. Dom wipes them away and soothes the blonde boy. 'What's wrong little brother?' Dom whispers. John tries to hide in his brother's arms but Dom stops it. 'Is a nightmare?' John nods whimpering. Dom presses his face into the blonde hair. 'You know they can't hurt you. You know I won't let them.'

'You weft.'

'Do you remember that?' John nods still crying. Dom squeezes his eyes.

'Loud.' John whimpers. 'Scawy.'

'The day I left?' John nods. 'I'm sorry little brother. I should have taken you and Harry with me. I shouldn't have left you with him. I'm sorry.'

'He got me. Said you not coming.'

'When he took you yesterday?' John nods. 'He said that?' the toddler nods again burrowing into the crook of Dom's arm. 'He lied John. Our father lied. I'm here. I'll always be here for you.' He makes John stand upright on his knees forcing the toddler to look into his eyes. 'I've always been looking for you. Ever since I left, I've always been looking for you. I'm not leaving again.' John wraps his arms around Dom's neck.

'Want Shock.' John whispers.

'Okay.' Dom's whispers back. 'Let's go and find him.' John clings to Dom as he rises and walks out of the office.

'They're waiting downstairs for you. In reception.' Donovan says the moment she sees them.

'Thanks Sally.'

'Wait a mo.' Dom stops as she retrieves her makeup kit and looks for the wet wipes. She removes one and stands up to reach up to John's face. She gently wipes away the tears and tear tracks. 'Much better.' Dom resumes his path to the door.

'What do we say?'

'Fank you.' John whispers. Donovan only just hears and smiles.

'Have fun.' John smiles weakly before burying his face in Dom's neck.

Dom walks out of the front entrance holding John's hand, the toddler's hand being dwarfed by his big brothers. Upon seeing the group John's face lights up and he frees his hand from Dom's and runs to join them. Mycroft catches the boy and swings him up onto his hip. Sherlock looks up at the blond boy enviously. 'Baker Street then?' Dom asks as he joins the group.

'No.' Mycroft replies. Dom's eyebrows decide to join his hairline. 'Because we're meeting them at London City.'

'And I assume we won't be going in a taxi.'

'You are correct.' Mycroft replies as a sleek limousine pulls up to the curb.

'Neat, very neat.' The driver climbs out and opens the rear door for them all to climb in. Mycroft sets John on the ground and climbs in. Greg picks up John and passes the small boy to Mycroft. The government official buckles the blond boy into a car seat and reaches out for the toddler with the raven curls. He buckles Sherlock into the car seat opposite John's so they can see each other clearly. Mycroft settles himself next to Sherlock as Greg enters. He whistles at the leather seats and minibar just behind the driver. Mary slides in and positions herself next to John. Dom climbs in last open mouthed clearly trying to frame a question but being too overwhelmed to actually say anything. John and Sherlock giggle at him. Mycroft taps on the screen separating them from the driver.

'It's a perk of the job Mr Watson. One I actually use.'

'Outside of the surveillance?'

'My superiors say that Sherlock Holmes is the worst kept government secret. He must be protected.' Greg snorts derisively.

'Sorry if I don't believe you Mycroft.' The man who "occupies a minor position in the British Government" but _is_ the British government merely smirks and changes the subject of conversation.

'So, Mary, who is this person you thought would be perfect?' Mary smiles.

'Mary.' Greg warns.

'How did you know we were talking about that?' Mary teases wanting to draw out the suspense in Mycroft's mind.

'I am perfectly good lip-reader. You need to be when you do the sort of jobs I do. Someone may be talking but you could be too far away to actually hear what they're saying or they're talking to quietly so lip reading come in very handy. Besides I wanted to see your reactions to the cheque.'

'Who uses cheques these days?' Dom finally manages to speak.

'The government does. But in this case it was merely a way to get the information across. The money had already been deposited in their account.'

'How long before we should arrive at the airport?' Greg asks trying to make sure the subject can't go back to matchmaking. Mycroft repeats the request into the

'We'll arrive in twenty minutes sir.'

'The picnic!' Mary cries suddenly, her hands going to her hair. 'We haven't got the picnic.'

'Taken care of Mary. Twenty minutes.' Mycroft slides a door under the rack of glasses revealing the battered old picnic bag that belongs to the Lestrades. Mary relaxes.

'I spent all morning put that together. I hope there's enough for everyone.' Sherlock giggles and pokes his brother in the tummy. Mycroft reciprocates eliciting more giggles from under the mop of curls. Mary reaches over and tickles John's tummy making him squeal with laughter. The rest of the journey passes quickly with all four adults finding new ways of making the toddlers laugh.

The car pulls up outside the entrance to the terminal and the six passengers climb out or are lifted out as in the case of the toddlers. As the car pulls away to make space another sleek black car pulls up and Mycroft opens the door for Mrs Hudson and Mrs Turner to climb out. Mrs Hudson climbs out first accepting the offer of Mycroft's hand. Sherlock squeals and reaches out to his landlady, she chuckles and takes him onto her good hip. 'Hello again.' She says tickling his chin. 'Have you been good?' Sherlock nods clinging to her. 'Can I say hello to John now?' Sherlock shakes his head.

'Don't be cheeky.' Greg chides the toddler. Mary takes Sherlock from her allowing John to be taken in her arms. The blond toddler rests his head on her shoulder and sucks his thumb. Mary winces as the thumb enters his mouth. Mrs Hudson laughs and walks into the terminal. Dom walks along side her. Mrs Turner follows flanked by Mycroft, Greg and Mary holding Sherlock. A porter pushing a trolley with their bags follows the group.

'We haven't met. I'm Henry Dominic Watson, John's older brother. Call me Dom.'

'Mrs Martha Hudson, their landlady as adults.' They shake hands as Mrs Hudson walks towards the check in desk. Mycroft weaves his way to be in front of Mrs Hudson. 'Mycroft!' she admonishes.

'Mrs Hudson, Mrs Turner.' He nods to the landlady's friend. 'I took the liberty in upgrading your ticket to first class. As a thank you for putting up with my brother's antics.' Mrs Hudson looks apprehensive but Mrs Turner seals the deal.

'Oh, take it Martha you deserve it. He hasn't even bother turning up to wave you off.' She looks around. 'Neither has that nice doctor.' The five other adults glance at each other.

'Okay, this once Mycroft, I don't like it when you do this.' Mycroft smiles and guides the two elderly ladies towards the first class check in area. Dom takes a sleeping John from his landlady. He tilts the toddler's head so he is secure but comfy in Dom's arms. Mrs Hudson rolls her shoulders to loosen them up. 'They are deceptively heavy aren't they?' She comments stroking the sleeping boy's hair. Sherlock reaches out for her, but she shakes her head and ruffles his curls to stop him pouting. Mrs' Turner and Hudson check their bags in and then are lead to the first class lounge where they wait for their flight to be called. When it is, Mrs Hudson cuddles first Sherlock then John. 'Good bye Sherlock, be good.'

'Bye bye Missis Hudson.' She kisses his curls.

'See you soon John, be happy.'

'Bye.' John whispers sadly. Mrs Hudson gathers the small blonde boy into her arms.

'No one will hurt you. They will have to answer to me. You know how tough I am don't you.' John nods, his arms wrapped tightly around her neck. 'I will be home soon and I will spend a lot of time with you. I promise.' John visibly brightens. She passes him back to Dom, who set him on his feet holding his hand. 'Look after him.'

'They will have to deal with both of us Mrs Hudson. Have a good holiday.' John tugs on Dom's sleeve.

'Don't wanna watch.'

'Have a good time Mrs Hudson.' Mycroft says. 'I'll take him Dom. I don't really like goodbyes either.' Mycroft picks the small boy up and turns towards the various shops spanning the length of the terminal. Sherlock watches them walk away from his vantage point on Mary's hip. He wriggles down and runs after his brother and best friends.

'Mycroft, you've got company!' Mycroft turn and sees his brother running after them. Mycroft holds out his hand and Sherlock slips his little one to Mycroft's adult one. They continue walking towards the shops, unconsciously heading towards the sweets and cake. The rest of the group watch Mycroft and the boys for a couple of minutes before they finish saying their good byes to Mrs Hudson. The three adults left watch as Mrs Hudson and Mrs Turner carrying their hand luggage down the tunnel leading them towards the aircraft.

'Bye Mrs Hudson!' Greg shouts just before the two women turn the corner out of sight. Mrs Hudson waves and Greg, Mary and Dom wave back. 'Come on, lets find the others, before too many sweet things are bought.'


	14. Chapter 13, Picnic Lunch

**Chapter 13**

**Picnic Lunch**

Sherlock and John run around one of the fields in the park with Greg and Dom chasing them. In one corner Mary and Mycroft set out the rugs and various food items that Mary had spent the morning putting together. 'This is a marvellous spread, Mary.'

'Thank you, I wasn't sure what you and Dom would like so I made a selection plus our favourites.' Mycroft looks over to the four of his (dare he say it) friends playing in the middle of the field.

'While they're playing, who's the match?' Mary raises her eyebrows.

'Greg doesn't really like me matchmaking.

'May I ask why?' Mary looks down.

'He and his first wife were matched by friends. Pushed together as it were. When the kids didn't come. Well, she blamed him.'

'The kids haven't come for you either.'

'I knew in my twenties I wouldn't be able to have children. I made it clear to Greg and he accepted the terms. I also told him I wanted to adopt or foster. I want kids but can't carry them myself.' Mary looks over at the children squealing with delight as the adults catch them.

'Your sister Sophia seems to be rather young, she's what ten years younger?'

'Oi, she's thirteen years younger actually. My parents called her the unplanned miracle.' Mary laughs. 'Mum and Dad always wanted a big family but not necessarily a large one, three or four kids. For a while there was only my older sister, Zoe, and me. They kept trying and none came, no I tell a lie, Mum fell pregnant twice but each time miscarried.' Mycroft winces in understanding. 'Then when they gave up, Sophia was conceived and born, and was spoilt by all four of us as she grew up.'

'You weren't resentful.' Mycroft frames it as a statement but Mary answers anyway

'Good grief no, I wanted nothing more than a little brother or sister to look after.'

'So who is the match?' Mary smirks.

'Tell me a bit about you, I know a tiny bit but I want to know more, I need to be sure.' Mycroft sighs.

'I should be the second and Shock the fourth. We had sisters. But they died before Sherlock was born. Ariadne drowned accidently, she went too far out and didn't tell anyone where she was going, I was six, and she was ten. I found her while I was walking with my nanny. Electra died two months before Sherlock was born.'

'How?'

'Suffocated while she slept. Carbon monoxide poisoning. She was eighteen months.' Mary shuffles around the rugs and encloses the government official in her arms.

'Your parents liked weird names.'

'We all had the myths and legends as bedtime stories. I gave Electra and Sherlock their names. Ariadne chose mine. Mother had miscarriages as well.'

'She will be perfect for you.' Mary whispers. 'But now is not the time.'

'Just answer me this, is she smart, hard working and caring around kids.'

'Yes to all of the above.' Sherlock runs up to Mary and Mycroft and dives onto his brother's lap giggling. Greg runs up puffing and collapses next to Mycroft.

'I win.' Sherlock shouts.

'Oi, tone it down.' Mycroft nudges his brother. Dom jogs up with John on his back.

'Shock won then?'

'Yeah. Has he always been like this?'

'Hyperactive, energetic and over the top?'

'Yeah.'

'Yes.' Dom kneels into the space between Greg and Mary lowering himself and John to the grass.

'Nice spot here Mary.'

'Mycroft chose it.' Mary takes the last box out of the hamper. 'Sherlock and John made these.' Sherlock immediately reaches out for it. 'Mini sausage plaits.' She hands them out making sure every plate gets one but that the toddlers each get two. 'Help yourself, people.' The four adults all pile their plates high with the food. Dom and Mycroft also fill the plates of their respective brothers.

An hour later all four adults have eaten all they can and all they want to do is laze around and digest the food. However the two toddlers have different ideas. Having been sitting for an hour all they want to do is run around again. John's tactics to get at least one of the adults to play is to snuggle in their arms and smile winningly up at them. Sherlock's method is much more forthcoming. He grabs the hand of one his careers and pulls trying to pull them up. Of course neither of the toddlers succeed not being strong enough. Sherlock flops down in a huff characteristic of his former adult self. He folds his arms and pouts frowning at the four of them. John swaps one set of arms (Dom's) for another, more gullible victim (Greg). Sherlock's pout disappears when he spots John's more subtle technique. He smiles carefully and crawls his way onto Greg's lap, confident that both of them will get Greg to play. The toddler sporting a mop of raven curls settles himself on Greg's lap next to John and nestles himself in. Greg wraps his arms around the pair. 'They're working together Greg. Think you can last?' Mycroft smirks.

'Oh I'll definitely give it a shot.' Greg replies resting his chin on the mop of curls. Sherlock tilts his head from side to side making his curls tickle the sensitive skin. John burrows deeper into his arm. Mary narrows her eyes.

'John's up to something.' She says carefully. Sure enough, moments later, John jumps up and runs off down the park carrying something. Sherlock follows. Greg quickly checks his pockets.

'The little-'Greg narrows his eyes. 'They are in so much trouble.'

'What did they take?' Dom asks.

'My ID, they nicked my ID. Check your pockets Dom.'

'He's got my wallet. Cheeky bug-bees.' They look to where John and Sherlock have come to a stop, they glance at each other. 'In three… two… one.' The two men burst from their seated positions and run towards the toddlers. The toddlers start running again and this time they separate. A game of cat and mouse ensures around the park. Finally, near to the picnic, Greg catches up with John and swings him into the air, John squeals in delight and clutches the leather object closely. Greg keeps a firm hold of the toddler as he sets him back on it feet and attempts to detach the wallet/ID from the toddler's grip. John wriggles determined to keep hold of it. 'Tickle him under the arms.' Dom's voice floats across the grass. Greg looks up, keeping hold of both leather and child, to see Sherlock squirming under Dom's arm. 'It makes him loosen his grip.' Greg moves his hands to tickle under John's arms. The toddler twists and turns in an effort to make Greg stop, but he persists until John drops the wallet. John reaches down to pick it up but Greg gets there first. John pouts.

'Cheeky.' Greg ruffles the blonde hair to show no hard feelings.

'Now, how to get this one to let go.'

'That's easy.' Mycroft calls over. 'Put him down.' Dom swings the boy to his feet facing Mycroft. 'Shock?' Sherlock stares his big brother keeping his grip tight on Lestrade's Police Identification. 'Biccies?' Mycroft holds up a pack of Sherlock's favourite brand of biscuits. Sherlock runs towards his brother dropping the ID on the way. The Watson brothers race to secure the ID but Dom gets there first and scoops it off the grass. The adults exchange items.

'You are a little monster.' Dom exclaims scooping his brother into the air. Dom carries the blonde toddler back to the picnic and seats themselves down, Dom keeping a firm hold of his little brother. Greg glances at his watch.

'Need to get back?'

'Ideally yeah but I really CBA.' Mycroft lifts an eyebrow. 'If CBB is can't be bothered CBA is?'

'Ah. However…' Mycroft tilts his head in Greg's direction. The DI glances over his shoulder and groans.

'Hello Donovan.'

'Saawwy!' Sherlock squeals clambering over Greg and the picnic to run into her arms.

'Hey, Shocky.'

'Unc Stwade chased us.'

'Did he?'

'Tell her everything Shock.' Sherlock shakes his head.

'Did you take something?' She lifts him onto her hip

'No.' He answers honestly.

'Really?' John wriggles out of Dom's grip and runs to her as well. 'Why did he chase you?' She wraps her spare arm around John's upper body.

'Careful Sally, he's striking.' Donovan glances down and sees John's little hand slipping into her pocket.

'Won't find anything in there young man.' She says calmly removing his hand. John pouts at her then throws a scowl at Mycroft.

'Did you need something Donovan?'

'Need you to execute a warrant.'

'If you've got it-'

'It's your name on the warrant. The owner won't let us in unless you're there.' Greg groans again.

'And there my vision of a perfect afternoon disappears into the ether.' He leans back allowing the blonde, hyperactive toddler to jump on his stomach. 'Sorry Donovan I can't I'm pinned.'

'What has he had?'

'Believe it or not. Nothing stronger than homemade good food and orange juice with plenty of fresh air.' Mary replies.

'They're both hyperactive.'

'You don't need to tell us Sally. You weren't the one chasing after a three year old thief and his accomplice.' Mycroft smiles.

'Neither were you.' Dom counters. 'It was me and Greg.'

'You could have told us about the bribery earlier.' Mycroft shifts onto his knees and lifts the small boy off Greg's stomach. John whimpers and reaches for his Uncle Greg.

'Mycroft, I had an excuse to stay here while he was on me.' Greg growls 'Now you've taken it away.'

'If I've got to go back to work, then you do to.' Greg tilts his head back to look behind Donovan. Anthea stands there on her Blackberry as ever when she's out of the office. Mycroft rises to his feet and extends a hand to Greg pulling him up as well, all while still holding a squirming John. A phone beeps and Dom pulls it out of his pocket. He leans over his legs and gently bangs his forehead against his knees. John stops reaching for Greg and looks worriedly at Dom. He looks up at Mycroft. 'Dom, you're scaring John.' Dom stops banging his head and looks up at his little brother. Mycroft sets the boy down and he climbs into Dom's lap.

'I'm sorry baby bro, work's wondering where I've got to.'

'Stay.' John demands looking round at the three men. 'Stay' He repeats. His expression softens. 'Pease.'

'We want to stay with you my bro work needs to be done. We'll be looking forward to being with you later. I promise.' John pouts but crawls into Mary's arms.

'He's not leaving forever chuck.' Mary whispers.

'I'll stay to help pack up.' Dom assures his baby brother. John smiles. Donovan sets Sherlock down and pushes him gently to persuade him to help pack him. He does and Greg, Donovan, Mycroft and Anthea quietly slip away to go and do their jobs. Albeit extremely reluctantly.


	15. Chapter 14, Danger Danger

**Chapter 14**

**Danger, Danger**

John stumbles along the street, unshed tears in his eyes. He looks a state but he keeps moving quickly and quietly tagging behind anyone going in his direction. His jumper is filthy and torn, his jeans torn, showing bruised and bloody skin. He wipes his hand over his eyes and looks around. He spots the vaguely familiar sign of New Scotland Yard and someone knows standing beneath it talking to someone else. 'Salwy.' He shouts. She looks around but doesn't spot him. 'Salwy.' He shouts again desperation cleat in his tone. Donovan turns and looks straight past him. The person she was talking to grabs her arms and points in his direction. John takes a step forward towards her but stumbles and falls hard onto the pavement, tears begin to fall down his face and he hears her footsteps running towards him as she shouts to someone.

'Get DI Lestrade here NOW!' She gathers him up in her arms. He flinches involuntarily. Minutes later, Greg joins the two of them. 'Careful sir, he's hurt.' Greg squats down and sits John on his knee. He very gently runs his hands over John's body. Satisfied that nothing is seriously wrong he stands still holding the boy close. He carries him inside to be check over by a first aider.

'Only bruised, no lasting damage.' The first aider says. Thankfully Greg had found one seconds after re-entering the building. 'He's in shock though.' Greg gathers the small boy to him and rocks soothing the terrified toddler.

'Dommy, Auntie Mawy.' John whimpers.

'What about them John?'

'Hurt.' Greg freezes.

'Where?' John doesn't answer. Greg resumes the rocking. 'Where John, where are they?'

'Park.'

'Where we had lunch?' Greg feels the boy nod. He makes eye contact with Donovan who promptly disappears from the doorway, a murderous expression gracing her features.

'You look like you want to kill someone.' Greg hears an officer remark.

'I do.' Donovan replies her voice laced with ice. 'No one hurts the kids I care for.'

'Want a hand?'

'If you don't mind, how many?'

'How many do you need?'

'Five, at the moment.' Greg grins sadly and continues soothing the scared toddler before something comes to him.

'What happened to Shock, John?'

'I don't know.' John burst into loud tears. Greg's heart breaks. 'We wan.' He sobs.

'Donovan!' He yells.

'Sir?' She appears in the doorway.

'Find Sherlock.' Donovan pales and retreats. Greg hears her giving orders in the reception.

'Another ten officers, Hyde Park. NOW!' John cries himself into an exhausted sleep as Greg continues to rock him. Once Greg is sure that the boy is deep asleep he lifts the boy to his shoulder and carries him out of the room. The grazes a stark contrast to the pale skin surrounding them. Greg carries him up to his office and picks up the desk phone. He presses a single number and holds it down. He silently thanks any and every deity he can think of that Mycroft had his minions tamper with it.

'Anthea, it's Greg. Greg Lestrade. I need Mycroft now.' His voice breaks. 'We don't know where Shock is. We think Mary and Dom have been seriously injured and John' he swallows. 'And John only has superficial injuries but is scared stiff. Yeah, John's safe. He found his way here to the Yard.' Greg replaces the phone and wraps his arms around the small vulnerable little boy. Tears form in Greg's eyes and a solitary one slips down his cheek. He wipes it away before it can drop onto the sleeping child in his lap.

Sherlock runs not looking back, like Dom urged him to. 'Run Shock, Run.' He did. He ran. To begin with he ran side by side with John but later on he noticed that John had disappeared. He panics. And looks around looking for a small blonde boy. Tears form in his eyes but he doesn't let them fall, wiping them away. He forces his scared mind to think. Safe places. Brother. Big offices. Old buildings. Safe. Brother. Mycroft. He looks around again this time taking in some of his surroundings. He sees another park on the other side of busy roads. He starts walking, Safe Brother Mycroft running through his head as a mantra. Safe Brother Mycroft. Three-year old Mycroft eyes the traffic on the busy road.

'Go.' Mycroft's voice whispers in his head. 'Wait. Left.' Sherlock looks to his left and sees the zebra crossing. Vaguely understanding what it is he runs along the pavement to it keeping well away from the curb. He waits for someone to walk up to the crossing. Moments later a family group leave Hyde Park and head for the crossing. 'The family.' Sherlock tags along with the family as they cross the busy road into Hyde Park Corner and on into Green Park.

'Where's Don?' He whimpers. 'Want Don.'

'John can look after himself.' Mycroft's voice whispers back. 'Make him proud baby brother. Find me, it's a game. Like we used to play remember? The first time you were small.'

'Yes.' Sherlock whispers. 'It rained, we payed.'

'Played little brother.'

'I'm scared.'

'I know. It's a game, just with a bigger playing field. I'll help you I already have haven't I?' Sherlock nods.

'Yes.' He mouths. 'Way?'

'Forwards. Now.' Sherlock looks up and sees a nanny (mother?) pushing a buggy in the direction Sherlock needs to go. 'Ask her for help.' Sherlock runs up to the woman and tugs on her sleeve.

'Hello.' Sherlock stares at her.

'Speak little brother. Help.'

''Elp.'

'What that little one?'

'Help me, please.'

''Elp me pwease.'

'Help you where?'

'St James' Park please. Mummy's there. Let the tears fall little brother.'

'Mummy at Dames Park, pwease 'elp me.'

'Do you mean St James' Park?' Sherlock nods letting the tears fall. 'Hey don't cry, little one.' The woman brushes the tears from his checks. 'I'll help you.' Sherlock smiles weakly. She holds out her hand.

'Take it.' Sherlock slips his little one into it. He walks along side her through Green Park. Now he is with somebody and his feeling of safety has increased, he looks around taking the beauty of the gardens. 'She's talking little brother.'

'Sorwy.'

'What are you sorry about little one?'

'Not 'ear.'

'I said how did you end up there?'

'Lost daddy when you followed him.'

'Lost daddy.'

'You followed your daddy?' Sherlock nods. 'And you lost him?' Sherlock nods again. 'Were you meant to?' Sherlock shakes his head. 'Your mum must be going spare.' The woman mutters to herself.

'Keep quiet.' Sherlock stays quiet as they leave the Park and walk down Constitution Hill.

'Where was your mother sitting?' the woman asks as they cross the mall.

'By the bridge.'

'Bwidge.'

'By the bridge, okay.' The woman pushes the buggy on with one hand before stopping suddenly. Sherlock looks up at her curiously. She transfers the grip of Sherlock's hand from her own onto the buggy. She smiles reassuringly back at him and starts pushing the buggy on.

'It's okay. Better when time to leave brother.'

'Which side of the lake.'

'Other.' Sherlock replies letting go of the buggy. 'Fanks.'

'Run. Come to me. You're nearly here. Not far now.' Sherlock runs onto the bridge pushing past everyone loitering about in the middle. The woman stands there in the middle of the path staring after the toddler.

'Turn left brother.' Sherlock turns and traces the line of the lake following the same direction he and the woman had been walking. He comes to a junction in the path and looks both ways. 'Stick to the side.' Sherlock keeps moving forward. He trips over a twig in the middle of the path. 'It's okay you're fine. Pick yourself up little brother. Come and find me.' Sherlock pushes himself to his feet and looks around. Remarkably no one saw the three-year-old fall over. Sherlock brushes the tears forming in his eyes away with the back of his hand. He looks down at his clothes. The jacket dusty and the trousers ripped slightly. He scowls to himself. 'Come on, little brother.' Sherlock starts moving but stops again.

'No.' he whispers. 'Want Don, where's Don?' Tears well up in his eyes again and this time he doesn't brush them away.

'Little brother, John's safe, he's with Unc Stwade. Come and find me.' Sherlock starts running. 'Keep going straight. Straight to the road.' Sherlock runs to the pavement running between the road and the park edge. Luckily for him not many vehicles use that road so he is able to cross with ease, by himself not having to wait for anyone. He runs across the road and in-between the buildings. 'Straight, keep going, climb the steps. You can do it.' The voice urges him. Sherlock climbs the steps one at a time. Not far now. Big door on your left.' Sherlock veers closer to the building on the left and runs down the pedestrianized street. 'There, now.' Sherlock stops and looks up at the big door. He starts forward and walks in through the open door. 'It's over to you now little brother.' He approaches the front desk nervously.

'Exwuse me.' the woman sat behind leans over and looks at him. 'Mycwoft Holmes pwease.'

'Mr Holmes you say?' Sherlock nods.


	16. Chapter 15, Chemical Explained

**Chapter 15**

**Chemical explained**

Mycroft glances at the ringing phone. He is slightly irritated as he is in the middle of an important meeting. He looks back at the two smartly dressed gentlemen sitting opposite him. 'Mr Holmes shouldn't you answer that?' one of them

'This meeting is more important gentlemen.' Mycroft replies crushing a feeling that says the call is about Sherlock and John.

'Mr Holmes, it is _obvious_ that you are itching to answer it. Your brother is missing yes?' Mycroft opens his mouth to speak but is cut off. 'Just answer it Mr Holmes. We can wait.' Mycroft snatches up the receiver.

'Mycroft Holmes, oh.' Mycroft smiles a rare genuine smile when he taking part in meetings. 'Thank you.' He replaces the receiver and turns to the gentlemen. Excuse me, please.' They nod and Mycroft rises from his chair. He manages to walk across the office to the door. Anthea looks up as her employer leaves his office and walks straight past her. He she notices that his walking speed has increased dramatically.

He walks down the corridor then speed walks before breaking into a run. He pushes past everyone walking down the corridor. Every looks after him, worried. After all everyone knows that the great Mycroft Holmes never runs if he can help it. He hates most types of exercise. Mycroft runs around the final corner towards the front door. He skids to a stop, and breathes many sighs of relief. 'Shock.' The toddler with a mop of raven curls turns in the direction of his voice. The expression brightens on both of the brothers' faces.

'Mycwoft.' The boy jumps down from his perch and barrels himself into Mycroft's arms. 'I… I'm scared.' Mycroft hold the boy to his chest as he sinks to the floor.

'I know.' Mycroft whispers into his hair. 'I'm proud of you brother. You managed get here on your own.'

'Dom told me to run. Where's Don?' Sherlock pulls away from his brother. 'Don. Where's Don?'

'John's safe. Shock. He's with Greg.'

'Unc Stwade?'

'Yeah. Want to come to my office?' Sherlock cuddles back into his brother and nods into his brother's neck. Mycroft stands stiffly holding his brother close. He carries the toddler through the corridors to his office. Anthea stands as Mycroft returns to the office. She reaches out for Sherlock and Mycroft lets her take him. Her eyes take in the state of his clothes.

'I'll clean him up sir.' Mycroft nods, clearly reluctant for the boy to be out of his sightlines. She sighs softly. 'He will be in there.' She nods to the private kitchen. 'I'll bring him straight to you when he's sorted.' Mycroft re-enters his main office.

'Mycwoft worried.' Sherlock whispers to Anthea.

'Anthea ring Gregory.' She nods and carries the boy into the kitchen closing the door. She sits Sherlock on a counter and dampens a cloth and runs it over the fabric Sherlock's jacket clearing the dust streaks from it.

'What happened?'

'Fell.'

'You fell over?' Sherlock nods and holds his hands out for her. 'Did it hurt?' Sherlock nods again. She cleans the grazes on his palms and sprays the liquid plasters over them. She stands Sherlock on the counter and unfastens his trousers. She pulls them off and finds the emergency sewing kit. Quickly and efficiently she sews up the long rip in the trousers and redresses the toddler in them. 'There all better.' Sherlock beams at her. She sets him back on the floor before rifling through the cupboards. Before turning and hiding something from the toddler 'After you came here yesterday, I stocked up on juices.' She brings her hands to the front, revealing several different flavours of juice. 'Which one would you like? Orange, apple, blackcurrant, or grape?'

'Orwange pwease.' Anthea hands him the box and he looks up with her shrewdly.

'Get your brother to open it.' Sherlock smiles.

'He in meeting?'

'Yes, but he won't mind.' She holds out her hand and Sherlock takes it, his other hand gripping the juice box. Anthea knocks on the door and opens it. Sherlock pushes past her and runs into the room clambering onto Mycroft's lap. The elder Holmes smiles and looks up at the assistant. She backs out the room closing the door. Mycroft rests his chin on Sherlock's hair as he pierces the foil for the toddler. The two gentlemen still sitting in the office look slightly uncomfortable with the open display of affection from the iceman.

'Where were we?'

'The chemical with no name, we still have no idea what happens if the chemical is administered by contact.'

'Do you mean on the skin?'

'Well, yes.'

'You're looking at it.' the gentlemen's eyes drop to the toddler.

'He didn't consume?'

'No, neither did his flatmate, Doctor John Watson.'

'How long did it take for them to turn?' The second asks.

'Over night.'

'Slower than the two hours for oral administration.'

'They were found at about nine thirty yesterday morning, by their housekeeper-'

'Landlady.' Sherlock interrupts. 'Missus Hudson, landlady not houthkeeper.' Mycroft chuckles.

'By the _landlady_. CCTV shows them walking back into their flat at 11pm. The lab's records show that they came into contact with the chemical at around 8pm.'

'It took around twelve hours for the transformation to be completed.'

'But not completely.' Mycroft comments

'Excuse me?'

'Every one who has consumed the chemical only has vague sensory memories. Shock, here and John, both have establishes memories, and can act upon them.'

'Mycwoft?'

'Yeah, Shock?'

'You told me where to go.' Mycroft shifts the boy to sit on his desk facing him.

'What do you mean?' Sherlock taps his head.

'You told me. In here.'

'My voice told you to come here?' Sherlock nods. 'I didn't little brother.' Sherlock looks up at his brother confused. His face crumples. 'Don't cry little brother.' Mycroft pauses and accesses his computer looking for footage with audio. He finds the footage of Sherlock and John waiting for him two days previously. 'Did I sound like this?' Mycroft plays the footage.

'_I thought I was supposed to be the dramatic one. Here. The fat oaf summoned us here. Not sure why though.' _ Sherlock nods vigorously.

'Yeah.'

'It was you talking little brother. It was your mind talking to you. Getting you somewhere you feel safe. Okay? It sounded like me, because in your first childhood you associated safety with me. Understand?' Sherlock nods slowly.

'But it said little brother, and told me what to say to get 'elp.' Mycroft smiles warmly at the very bright toddler.

'That was your big self telling you what to say.'

'Oh. When's Don coming?'

'Soon. After Anthea has rung your Uncle Greg.'

'Okay.' Sherlock wriggles down from his place on the desk and runs over to the window. Mycroft and the gentlemen get on with the rest of the meeting discussing the regression chemical. As they stand to bid each other goodbye. Sherlock looks over at Mycroft. 'Mycwoft?'

'Yes shock?'

'I want to be big again.' Sherlock resumes looking out of the window. The three men stare at the toddler in astonishment. 'Don's coming, and Unc Stwade.' He cries happily.


	17. Chapter 16, Toddlers Reunite

**Chapter 16**

**Toddlers Reunite**

Greg walks into Mycroft's office carrying a still sleeping John. Sherlock jumps up and runs over to the pair of them. He wraps his arms around Greg's legs. He nearly looses his balance as Sherlock barrels into them. He keeps it and uses his spare arm to steady John on his shoulder. The sudden movement disturbs him and he wakes. His face crumples, as he doesn't recognise his surrounding immediately. 'Don!' John rubs his eyes and looks down at Sherlock. His face brightens immediately and Greg stands him on the floor. The two toddlers hug watched by the two adults.

'Where did John go?'

'Straight to the yard it seems. Anderson has managed to track all John's movement since leaving the park.' Greg sighs. 'He flat out refused to track Sherlock's.'

'Shock says that he heard his adult self tell him what to do, where to go.'

'John hasn't said anything.' Greg looks over at the toddlers now at the window. 'I don't think he will.'

'How are Mary and Dom?'

'Shaken more than anything. Dom's got a broken arm and stunning black eye. Mary has a couple of cracked ribs and slight concussion. Both are worried for the kids and want revenge on the-' Greg tails off glancing at the kids again. 'John?' the blonde boy looks over at Greg. 'Can I ask you something?' He nods carefully. 'Did you hear a voice telling you what to do?' John frowns.

'No, I heard Dommy.'

'After he told you run?' Mycroft asks.

'He said wun. He whisper weft and wight and go and sop.'

'He gave you directions?' John nods. 'That's all, good boy.' Mycroft and Greg share a look. 'Adult John?'

'Adult John.' Mycroft confirms. Greg sighs.

'I need to get back to work. The boys all right to stay here? I would have them at the office but Anderson. I don't want to risk it.' Mycroft nods. Greg walks over to the boys and says goodbye to them gently, assuring that he's going to get the bad guys. Mycroft decides he's going to deal with paperwork

'Mycoff?' John asks suddenly. The government official and glances over at the boys before returning his gaze to the boring paperwork.

'Yes John?'

'Can I have a gun?' Mycroft freezes but decides to humour him.

'What kind of gun would you like, if you were to have one?'

'A Sig Saucer p226 or a Browning L9A1.' John replies succinctly. Mycroft freezes again in as many minutes.

'Pardon?'

'A Sig Saucer p226 or a Browning L9A1.' He replies patiently. At that moment the door opens but Mycroft ignores the newcomer choosing to move across the room to be with the boys.

'A Sig Saucer or a Browning?' John nods. 'You remember the gun of your choice?'

'Yeah, Shock got me a Sig after he lost my browning at the pool.'

'You remember the pool?' Both toddlers nod solemnly.

'Mr Holmes, how can you be more concerned that they remember a pool than one having asked for a gun?'

'Your highness, these toddlers actually are adults but have come into contact with a chemical that is being developed in one of our labs that can regress fully grown adults into toddlers. I am more concerned about which of their memories they actually remember.'

'Oh. And the pool?'

'John was strapped to semtex and they were nearly blown up.' Donovan walks in, nearly colliding with the prince.

'Oh sorry, not paying attention.'

'Salwy!' John cries and runs over to her. She drops the bags and swings the toddler up.

'You okay now?' She asks him. John nods eyeing the bags. 'Oi. Nosy.' She taps the toddler on the nose and replaces him on the floor. He stares at her knowing that she will crumple quickly. 'Ok. Go on.' John gives a whoop of joy and digs through them. After a couple of minutes he finds what he's looking for. 'Teddy.' he announces brandishing his teddy. Sherlock looks over with interest.

'Mine?' John brandishes the dark brown one as well. John goes to run back to Sherlock. But is restrained by Sally.

'Salwy?'

'What else is in that bag?' john carefully sets the teddy bears on the floor. And picks up the bag.

'Books.'

'Mycwoft wead.' Sherlock demands from his seat by the window.

'Read what Shock?' John holds up Basil, the Great mouse detective.

'Pease?' The prince looks on with interest.

'Boys, come here.' Sherlock runs to his brother but John hesitates. He tucks the book under his arm and picks up a teddy carefully in each hand. He carefully makes his way over to Mycroft. The toddlers stand in front of the government official. Behind them Donovan smirks rapidly working out where this is going.

'If you don't like kids, go now.' She whispers.

'Why?' he whispers back.

'Mycroft's got his plotting face on. He had the same face on last night when he was working out what to do with the people who attempted to kidnap John.' She murmurs. She raises her voice. 'See you later boys. Be good for Mycroft.'

'Bye Sawwy.'

'Bye Salwy.'

'Why did she just run?'

'Sawwy got work.' Sherlock looks to the door. 'Mycwoft, I know who the match is.'

'The match?'

'The one Auntie Mawy was talking about.'

'Oh, that match.'

'Keep it a secret, eh? Have one up on your brother.' The prince crosses the intervening space between him and the other three. 'Anyone care to answer my previous question. Why did she run?'

'Sherlock did. She's got work.' Mycroft looks at the blond boy meaningfully. John looks down at the book in his hand. He presents the book to the prince.

'Wead pease.'

'Why can't Mr Holmes read to you?'

'Mycwoft wead last night.' The prince puts his hand out for the book. John places it in his hands and crawls onto his lap. Sherlock settles in Mycroft's

'Where do I start?' Sherlock gives him a contemptuous look from Mycroft's lap.

'At the start.'

'Well duh.' The prince laughs. He opens the book so John can clearly see the pictures. Mycroft shuffles round to enable Sherlock to see them as well. An hour passes and the boys drift off to sleep. The prince has only got halfway through the book when Mycroft notices that the boys are peaceful.

'Stop there.' He whispers careful not the wake the sleeping toddler in his lap. The prince closes the book and shifts the toddler into a position where blood flow will not be hindered. 'A small trick you need to learn.'

'Which is?' Mycroft doesn't speak his answer preferring to guide Sherlock's toddler body around so the toddler's front leans against his chest as he slowly and carefully rises. Once in his fully upright position Mycroft carries his baby brother over to the window seat and lays him down. He steps across the room quickly and rootles through the bags. He withdraws a blanket and two small pillows.

'Go on. It's not hard, although the trick is to do it smoothly.' The prince manoeuvres the blonde toddler's body trying to imitate Mycroft's actions. 'That's it.' once John is secure he carefully rises and carries the toddler over to the same seat as Sherlock. Mycroft eases the pillows under their heads and tucks the blankets over them. The prince glances around and spots the two teddies sitting side by side where the four of them had been reading. He leans over and grabs them.

'The light one for the blonde and the dark for the raven curls.' He whispers tucking the teddies in too. Simultaneously stir and clutch their respective teddy bear. The two men beat a retreat to the other end of the office 'The iceman's heart has melted.' Mycroft coldly stares at him. 'I was joking Mycroft. I've seen how you look at the kids when you come the gatherings. You just hide it well.'

'Did you want something?'

'Sherlock, the curly haired boy?' Mycroft nods 'Did he come via St James Park and the palace gardens from Hyde Park Corner?'

'Why?'

'Because there was a boy on his own who walked along the wall of the Palace Gardens. Chelsea noticed him but then he ran up to a woman with a buggy. He looked just like Sherlock.'

'Sherlock managed to find his way here on his own. Although I am not completely sure of the route he took. He is smart enough to attach himself to someone enabling him to get to his destination.'

'The blonde boy.'

'John.'

'Yeah, he reminds me of a soldier, I met once. A captain.'

'Before he met my brother and was turned into a toddler, he was a Captain.'

'A Doctor?'

'Yes.'

'Now what regiment was he?' The prince muses. 'The fifth… ah, the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers, medical corps.'

'That is he. Doctor John Watson, formally Captain John Watson of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers who turned into a toddler the day before yesterday was tucked in by your good self.' Mycroft smirks at the expression on the prince's face.


	18. Chapter 17, Palace Toddlers

**Chapter 17**

**Palace Toddlers**

Greg and Donovan enter the office in the government building. He stops suddenly and look around the room. Donovan walks into him. 'Sir?' She asks stepping back.

'Sh.' He hisses. 'Stay there.' He leaves her in the anteroom and cautiously enters. 'They're not here.'

'What?'

'They aren't here. Sherlock and John. They've gone.' Donovan barges in and looks around the office.

'Gone where?'

'Gone how?'

'Where's Mycroft?' Greg pauses. 'They'll be with Mycroft.' Anthea enters the office behind them.

'Hello Greg, Sally.' She greets bending down to pick up the toddlers' toys and games.

'Where are they Anthea?'

'With Mr Holmes.' Greg relaxes minutely.

'But where?' Anthea smiles gently.

'You won't believe me.'

'Anthea! Tell me.'

'The Palace.'

'The Palace? _Buckingham_ Palace?' Donovan bursts out. Anthea smirks at their expressions.

'Mr Holmes missed a meeting with the Royal Family earlier. One of the princes came to see why he had missed the meeting and was roped into reading the toddler a story.'

'He didn't run off then?' Anthea and Greg stare at her.

'He was here when I dropped off all this stuff. Like you asked me to sir.' She shrugged. 'I didn't think he would actually stay.'

'Curiousity, I expect.' Anthea says folding up the blanket.

'Looks more like an office rather than a children's playroom now.' Donovan remarks.

'Are the kids going to stay with Mycroft then or what?' Before Anthea can answer Mycroft's desk phone rings.

'Mr Holmes' Office Anthea speaking, hello, yes sir. I'll see to it sir. Right away. Yes, he's here and Sally Donovan. Yes sir.' She replaces the receiver. 'Already two step ahead.' Greg lifts his eyebrows. 'Task one, tidy the office. Task two, find out where in London you two are. Task three, escort you to the palace.'

'Oh.'

'John wants you. Badly, judging by the sound of crying in the background.' Greg blanches, he starts sending glances between the clock, door and Anthea. 'Give me a second and we'll be right over.' Donovan places a hand on Greg's arm.

'Calm down sir, if you over react now you won't be able to help him.' Greg closes his eyes and takes several calming breaths.

Fifteen minutes later, a doorman opens the door to sound of crying. Greg burst in and runs over to the crying boy hoisting him into his arms. He ignores all the other occupants in the room including Sherlock. His complete attention is focussed on calming the distressed boy. After rubbing soothing circles on the boy's back and jiggling him in his arms John begins to quieten. 'Hey, it's Uncle Greg. Come on calm down.' Greg moves his hand from the toddler's back to his hair still stroking. 'It's okay you're safe. I won't let anyone hurt you.' The toddler focuses on Greg's voice. He rubs his tiny fist in his eye.

'Stwade?'

'Yeah, it's Stwade.' Greg still hasn't acknowledged the other occupants. 'What happened?' Greg asks not sure whether he is aiming it at the toddler or the room in general. However, the toddler shakes his head and burrows his face deeper into Greg's neck. 'Mycroft?'

'I'm not actually sure Gregory.' The DI gives the government official the full force of his glare. 'For once.'

'Mycwoft?' Sherlock tugs at his brother's sleeve. Mycroft and Greg look at the small boy.

'What is it Shock?' Greg asks.

'That man.'

'What man?'

'The porter.' Greg glances up at the speaker. 'The porter had a strong highland accent.' Both Mycroft and Greg have a revelation.

'So is Henry.' John flinches in Greg's arms.

'Who's-' Someone begins to ask. Greg holds his hand up to stop them and distressing John even more. Greg kneels onto the lush carpet making the boy stand in front of him.

'John, look at me.' The boy shakes his head eyes fixed on the floor. 'Oi, get out of that soldier mentality and look at me.' John smiles weakly and looks up. 'Thought you would like that. Did the porter remind you of him?' John nods. 'He can't hurt you. Not anymore, I won't let him.' Greg gathers the boy to his chest and kisses the top of his head, feeling John relax as he does so. 'Where's teddy? Shock, where's John's teddy?' Sherlock runs to a window seat and collects the light brown teddy sitting there. He grabs it reverently and runs over to Greg. 'Well done Shock.' Greg says accepting the bear from him. He presses it in John's hands and they close around the fur. Greg goes to stand up but the toddler grabs hold of Greg's jacket. 'Hey, I'm not going anywhere.' Sherlock looks on worriedly. 'Just to take my coat off, can I? John?' The blonde haired toddler reluctantly lets go and Greg stand removing his coat.

'Sir?' Donovan asks hand out for his coat.

'Thanks Sally.'

'Sally?' Donovan passes to Mycroft who heads over to a bureau and lays the coat on top. 'Sit down Gregory. You'll need to.'

'I do wish you would call me Greg, not Gregory Mycroft. I hate my full name.' Greg does settle on the sofa with John on his lap. Sherlock scrambles up and settles next to him. Greg puts his arm around the taller toddler hugging them both close.

'This happens to be the Detective Inspector I mentioned earlier. DI Gregory Lestrade.'

'The one you pulled favours for? Or didn't he know that?' once of the princes asks.

'As it happens no he didn't know it but yes I did.'

'You made my superiors keep me in my job.'

'Subtly yes.'

'Why?'

'You are a good man. Public dislike of one individual shouldn't bring down others, who are only trying to do their jobs. Even without Sherlock assisting you still had the best rate of solved cases in the entire yard.'

'Mycwoft ne'wer com, comp' his face screws up as he tries to think of the word

'Complains? Compels? Compliments?' Sherlock's face lights up at the third word.

'He ne'wer compliments anwyone.'

'I know, we really need to sort it out don't we. Thaw him properly.' Greg's eyes dart at Donovan in the corner before returning to Mycroft.

'William and Katherine, why don't you take the boys to see the animals?'

'Why us?'

'No.' John protests. 'I wantee Stwade.' Greg calms the boy silently. Donovan swoops in front of Greg blocking John's view of the rest of the room.

'What about if I come too?' Donovan eases some hair off his forehead. 'Would you go then?' John nods and wraps his arms around her neck. Sherlock climbs off the sofa and runs to William. The elder prince scoops him up and waits for Donovan to join them. Greg watches them smiling warmly. As soon as the door closes Greg turns on Mycroft.

'Mycroft, you shouldn't have done that.'

'Done what? Save your livelihood? I did you a favour.'

'I didn't ask for it. I wouldn't have minded leaving the yard.'

'Really? Come off it Gregory, you love your job. You love the satisfaction of finding the clues, of closing cases.'

'I'm not denying that, Mycroft. The super always calls me the cab's pet until five of my officer put a complaint in for me. You know I didn't know why he called me that but now I do.'

'The cab's pet?'

'Cabinet Mother, as in the Government. The Superintendent implied that the DI was the Cabinet's go to man in Scotland Yard. Therefore under their protection.'

'I should have told you I was involved. I admit that. But I will say this, they were forging your resignation, when I walked in on them.'

'Who?'

'A Rat-faced man, and the Superintendent with a couple of others.' Greg growls.

'Anderson.'


	19. Chapter 18, Royalty Involved

**_A/N:- This chapter can also known as Greg's Revelation_**

**Chapter 18**

**Royalty Involved**

Prince Harry and his grandmother watch as Mycroft and Greg face each other down. Harry clears his throat. 'Who's Anderson?

'My chief forensic officer.' Greg growls. 'Abominates Sherlock. He said that I should have dumped the toddler into a kid's home after they'd changed.'

'Not mentioning lashing out at Sherlock and knocking him over. Or pushing John into a lift when he went wandering.'

'What's going to happen to him?' Harry asks

'He really values the opinions of Sergeant Sally Donovan. Harry jabs his thumb over his shoulder at the window.

'That Sally?'

'Yes. I believe she slapped him twice.'

'She did. Once when he knocked Shock over and then after she'd found John and brought him back.' Greg smirks. 'Her disappointment in him most be most devastating to him.'

'It's obvious that she loves kids.'

'The funny thing is that she doesn't particularly likes the adult Sherlock.'

'But she adores toddler Sherlock.' Harry remarks. 'But then, who can't?' murmurs of appreciation follow the remark. Harry indicates for a porter to open a window. Two childish peals of laughter and Donovan's (false) exasperation float through the open window. Greg walks over and looks down at them. He smiles and waves to cries of

'Stwade! Look!' Greg gives them two thumbs up and sends a text to Donovan. He turns his back to the window.

'I'm sorry for virtually ignoring you earlier but John's welfare comes first.'

'May I ask why he was nervous of the Scottish porter?'

'We believe that John was abused by his father, who has a strong highland accent.'

'During his first childhood.'

'Yeah, and add in the facts that he was snatched but the man yesterday. Just taken from his car seat.' Greg pauses.

'You got him back.'

'Correction. Anthea got him back.'

'You flushed him out. Found out where he was taken Gregory. I couldn't calm him. None of us could. You could. You utilised resources available ensuring his safety.'

'I recognised Hope.' Greg interrupts quietly.

'What?'

'I recognised Hope Watson.'

'When?'

'At the scene.'

'I don't understand Gregory.'

'I'm what twenty-five years older than John? Twelve year older than Dominic and fourteen years older than Harriett.' Greg glances over at his coat. 'Haven't you wondered why there is a such a large age gap between them?'

'Miscarriages.'

'Abortions, under false names.' Greg wanders back to his seat.

'Is he your son?' Harry's grandmother asks gently

'Yeah, that's why she kept him.'

'I thought you couldn't have kids.'

'Mary can't neither could Diane. I can.'

'Does John know?' Greg shakes his head.

'I didn't until I saw her dead.'

'Should you be on the case?'

'I already know, personally, who killed her. I don't even need to look for him.'

'Why?' Harry asks.

'Because he's already in custody for kidnapping.' Greg snaps. 'Sorry I shouldn't-' Greg puts his hand in his hands. 'It's just so hard. I know I have kids but I can't publically announce it or tell them can I?' He feels a calming hand on his back.

'Gregory Lestrade. If you have solved the case, close it. If you want to tell him, tell him but wait until he's changed back or until he's older. If you don't want to tell him, don't. But I would advise you to tell your wife. She is older than John isn't she?'

'She's eight years younger than me. Eighteen years older than John.' Greg murmurs into his hands.

'Then this is what you do now. You keep those children happy, healthy and safe. You stop worrying about bridges you may never cross. Those children need you. And shouldn't you be work?' Greg looks forward.

'Got paternity leave. The Chief reckons I've done enough for the case and the other officers can deal with what remains to close it. He's also decided I need a holiday. Sally too.'

'Lucky you.'

'If I didn't have the kids I would be bored out of my mind.' The room erupts with laughter. Anthea slips in as they calm down. She leans down to whisper in Mycroft's ear.

'Sir, I've the information on the woman who helped Shocky.'

'Thank you Anthea.' Mycroft glances across at Greg.

'Invite her to mine, tomorrow.' Anthea nods and leaves to arrange it. She keeps the door open for two blackened and grimy toddlers burst into the room. Greg scoops up his son and holds him upside down. 'What have you two been up to?'

''elping to clean the 'orse's wooms.' Sherlock beams

'Cleaning the stables?' John nods wriggling. Greg rights him and places him on the floor.

'Where are Sally, William and Katherine?' Harry asks.

'I'm right here.' Sally says entering the room only slightly mucky. 'Never let those two near a dirty stable again. William and Katherine are changing their clothes. Thanks to those two.'

'What happened?'

'They decided they wanted a straw fight. But they refused to play with the clean straw.'

'What's Auntie Mary going to say, when she sees you monsters?' John shrugs a devious expression on his face. Greg places his palm out flat expectantly. John shakes his head. Greg raises his eyebrows. 'Now John.'

'Didn't do anyfing.' He pouts, backing away. Unfortunately for the blonde-haired toddler he backs into Mycroft. He looks up and back. 'Uh oh.'

'Uh oh indeed.' Greg leans forward and demonstrates a superior talent than the one the toddler displayed.

'Where did you get this?' He holds it up

'It's Katherine's, when he pretended to fall off the horse.' Sally informs the room. Greg passes the small purse to Harry and gathers the boy into his arms.

'This has got to stop, Johnny. I know it's fun, but stop it.' Greg holds him at arms length and runs his gaze up and down both boys. 'We need to get you cleaned up. Sally, there were a change of clothes in the bags weren't there?' She nods. The Queen signals for a porter to retrieve the toddlers' extra set of clothes. William and Katherine re-enter the room.

'Which one nicked my purse?'

'John did. But it's here.' Harry passes it back to its rightful owner. Greg nudges John.

'Sorwy.'

'Just don't do it again.' She tells him mock sternly.

'That's a royal order John.' Greg whispers. John nods seriously.


	20. Chapter 19, Family John

**Chapter 19**

**Family John**

Harriet Watson walks into Dom's hospital room and leans on the doorframe. She watches him as he examines his new arms covering. 'Go now Harry.' He says without looking up.

'Why?'

'Because I don't like you.'

'Dad's been arrested.'

'Mum's dead.' He counters. 'Who am I more bothered about, her or him? The man who terrified and kidnapped a little boy or a woman who was terrorised by him.' He glares at his sister.

'The cops cam to visit me.' Dom sags in frustration.

'About Father, I know. I helped them find him.'

'I recognised him.'

'From where?'

'I dunno.'

'Great.' Dom mutters sarcastically.

'From when I were a kid I fink.' Dom looks at her carefully.

'How old?'

'Ten, eleven, I s'pose. When Mum was put in 'ere by dad.' Dom watches her expression carefully. 'I fink he's that copper, who believed her when ovvers didn't.'

'That's what I thought.' Dom mutters carefully. 'He made her laugh. He made her our mother rather than the woman father intimidated.' His eyes widen. 'John isn't our full brother.'

'What? Course he is.'

'No. Mum was unconscious for a month that time right? They did tests and everything she wasn't pregnant. He comes on the scene makes her feel better. Helps her rebuild her life-'

'And disappears.'

'He gave her his number and made her promise to call if she needed him. He stayed around for as long as he could without being suspicious to his bosses. Maybe he stayed away so father wouldn't know. To protect her.' Dom looks excited, Harry unconvinced. She snorts.

'She had all those miscarriages. Why would this baby stay?'

'She never had miscarriages. I heard her talking to him. It stuck. "I aborted a load of kids, I didn't want to but since he turned unpredictable I don't want another child to be raised by him." The only reason she would keep the baby was if it wasn't Father's.'

'What did the coppers want anyway? They muttered somefing about John being turned into a toddler.'

'He has been. His flatmate too.'

'How did it happen?' Dom shrugs.

'Don't know, if the police do they're keeping shtum.'

'What happened to you?'

'I was attacked.' Dom snarls. 'After I joined friends for a picnic lunch.'

'Which friends?'

'Since when are you concerned about my social life?'

'Which friends?' Harry repeats. 'I want to beat the crap out of them.'

'As a matter of fact, that policeman who interviewed you was there, as was the woman in the next room and a government official, who happens to be the elder brother of Sherlock, John's flatmate and best friend.' Dom glares shrewdly at his younger sister. 'Before you say anything, the cop and official weren't attacked because they'd both been summoned back to work twenty minutes before.'

'Convenient.'

'Really, when all the attackers wanted was the kids. Greg loves the kids and Mycroft does what he can to keep an eye out for his younger brother. Why on earth would they want to harm the boys? Especially when they were panicking last night when _Father_ stole John.'

'He didn't steal him.'

'Harry, John was being looked after by someone. That man waltzed in and took him. He waited until they were busy and took him. He opened a car door and just took him.'

'They should have been keeping a better eye on him.'

'He was strapped into a car seat. She was on the other side dealing with the other toddler.'

'Why did the attackers want the kids?'

'I DON'T KNOW!' Dom bursts out startling Harry. 'Whoever they I'm going to kill them.'

'Dad said he might be sending people after a guy.'

'When?'

'Yesterday, 'fore the copper came round. Finking about it, could hear screaming.'

'You could hear screaming when you were on the phone to that bastard?'

'Oi, he ain't a bastard.'

'Yes, he is. Don't bother lighting that up. You're in a hospital for god's sake Harry.'

'Excuse could you please put that away?' A nurse asks

'Sod off.' Harry tells the nurse.

'Take it off her.' Dom tells the nurse. 'She's quitting. Is Mary Lestrade able to have visitors?'

'Yes. She wants to see you.' Dom swings his legs off the bed and stands. He sways slightly and the nurse starts forward.

'I'm fine… sudden rising. Do it all the time.'

'Mr Watson.'

'He's a stubborn fool.'

'And you're a nosey parker. Why are you here?'

'Can't I come and see my brother who happens to be in hospital?'

'You. No. How did you know I was here? I have your number.' Harry hesitates opening and closing her mouth. 'Just go, I don't care anymore.'

'Dad sent me.'

'I thought he was arrested.'

'He is. He used his phone call to tell me to get him a solicitor.'

'How did he know?'

'He said you would be.'

'Get out.' Dom's voice is as hard as stone and ice cold. Harry's eyes widen and she flees. The nurse glances between Harry's retreating back and Dom's pale face. She walks forwards and guides Dom to sit on his hospital bed.

'Are you okay?'

'No.'

'What hurts?'

'My head, my arm, my eye.'

'We'll get you another ice pack for your eye and some painkillers for the other pain. Where in your head?' Dom gestures to the back and left side of his head. 'You didn't fall and hit your head?'

'No.' The nurse gently probes the area Dom indicates. He winces.

'I'm going to get a doctor. Lie down. Stay still.' Dom obeys as the nurse leaves.

Twenty minutes later, Greg arrives with two toddlers, Sophia and Sally in tow. He stops first at Mary's room and peeks in. She's lying there staring at the ceiling until the door opens. 'Hey, how you feeling?'

'Good. They're keeping me in overnight. How are the boys?' Greg gestures to the window to the room.

'See for yourself.' She glances over and smiles. Two beaming boys carried by two happy women look in at her. The boys wave and she waves back

'Why aren't you at work?'

'Paternity leave. Sally and I both have been given holiday leave as well. We've been working too hard apparently.' Mary kisses his cheek.

'You always work too hard.' She becomes serious. 'Greg I'm worried about Dom. Harriet came by and he got stressed. They don't have contact yet she knew he was here. I think she said that their father organised the attack. Targeting Dom and the kids.' Greg frowns and his gaze hardens. 'Greg. There's more, he's got a new pain in his head. It didn't come from the fight.'

'Jesus.' Greg breathes. 'Puts all my problems in perspective.'

'What problems?'

'I told you about the murder I was working on.' Mary nods. 'I knew the victim and had sexual relation with her.'

'Go on.' Mary encourages.

'It seems that I have had a child with her.'

'How do you know the child is yours?'

'When I knew her, she was married and had a teenager and pre-teen. Names Henry Dominic and Harriett.'

'John is your son.'

'I believe so. I'm going to get a paternity test to confirm it. Can do it through the yard.' Mary smiles.

'We have a child.'

'I have a son, you a stepson. Maybe two.'

'Explain.'

'Later. I'm going to see Dom.' Greg kisses her chastely but passionately.


	21. Chapter 20, Holmes Senior

**Chapter 20**

**Holmes Senior**

Mycroft leaves his office intending to make his way back to Greg's house after enduring several hours of meetings and tedious paperwork. A woman blocks his way to the outer doors. Mycroft nearly brushes into her as he walks out of the office lost in his thoughts. 'Mycroft.' Mycroft brings himself back to the present instead of memories of Sherlock's original childhood. He looks at the woman.

'Mummy.'

'Care to explain why Sherlock agreed to come to the manor yesterday and didn't turn up?'

'Ah.'

'Well?' Mycroft scratches his head and gestures to his office.

'Come in Mother, I'll explain what I can.' He leads his mother into his office. 'Have a seat in the armchairs.' He gestures to the said bits of furniture. She ignores him and makes a beeline to the only picture on his desk.

'You don't do personal Mycroft.'

'I know, Mummy.' she picks it up and looks at it. Dom, Mary, Greg, him and toddler john and Sherlock.

'Mycroft. Who is this?' She points to Greg.

'DI Gregory Lestrade. One of the few police officers who can deal with Sherlock.'

'Why is Sherlock a toddler in this photo?'

'I asked him and John, the other toddler, to investigate a theft case. The recipe to a new chemical was stolen and that chemical was split onto the two of them. They turned into toddlers.'

'You knew that would happen?'

'Not absorbed through the skin. We knew that if it was consumed then the consumer would regress.'

'Sherlock is a live experiment?'

'Not intentionally.'

'Will he change back?'

'I hope so. As much as I love having the toddlers around, I want the adults back.'

'Missing the comments already?' Mycroft shifts in his chair. The silence speaks volumes.

'Well, yes.' He answers finally. 'No doubt I will miss the toddlers when they are back.' Mrs Holmes bursts out laughing.

'Did you know I had invited him?'

'Yes. He told me.' Mycroft adds in answer to the look on his mother's face. 'He asked if I knew why you had invited him.' she looks out of the window.

'Your father is not his.' She says after a pause.

'I have entertained that thought briefly.' Mycroft says carefully. 'But he takes after you in physique and well both Father and he are tall.' His brow creases. 'What are you saying mummy? Why did you ask who Greg is?'

'I knew him. I introduced he and his wife.'

'He and Mary?' Mycroft asks confused

'Diane.' He understands.

'He divorced Diane a few years ago. He's married to Mary now.' Mrs Holmes is surprised.

'Why?'

'Diane wanted kids and blamed Gregory for them not coming. She divorced him and he met and married Mary. The pair of them are perfectly matched.'

'Children?'

'It's complicated.'

'How?'

'It's not my place to explain.' Mycroft hesitates not sure whether to carry on

'But?' his mother presses.

'No. I can't betray confidences.' Mycroft can tell that she wants him to tell her but before she can ask again his mobile rings. 'Mycroft Holmes…Yes…I'm on my way…I'll be there in twenty minutes, maybe thirty.' Mycroft glances over to his mother. 'May I bring a guest? You know her.' He laughs. 'I'll leave that as a surprise.' He hangs up

'Don't you want to know who Sherlock's father is?'

'I think I already know.'

'Maybe I can confirm it.'

'Would you like to accompany me to the Lestrade household, Mother of Mine?'

'Why, yes I would love to.' She plays along.

Thirty-five minutes later, the car carrying Mycroft and his mother pulls up in the drive outside the Lestrade household. Mycroft opens his door and steps out. Almost as if they had planned it Greg steps through the front door. 'You are five minutes late.' He deadpans.

'And?'

'Shock is not happy.' Greg fights to keep the smirk off his face.

'Shock horror, what am I going to do?' Mycroft pretends to gasp. The two of them fall about laughing. Mycroft regains control of himself. 'He count the minutes?'

'Did he heck? "How long till Mycwoft comes?" over and over again.' Greg glances at the closed door. 'He's right behind it now trying to reach the lock.'

'I can more than make up for it. I believe you know my mother?' Mycroft extends a hand to help his mother out of the car. Greg's jaw drops. He manages to regain some semblance of professional control.

'Yes, we do know each other.'

'Gregory, how are you?'

'I'm fine, thank you Scarlett. And you?'

'I'm good, thank you.'

'You know about?'

'Sherlock yes.' Greg nods.

'Right. Let's see if he remembers you.' Greg taps on the window. Moments later the door opens and a dark blur streaks past Greg and stops just short of Mycroft and Scarlett.

'MUMMY!' he launches himself into her arms. Greg smiles and nods his head towards the house. Scarlett carries her regressed son into the house.

'Shock, show mummy the playroom.' Sherlock nods seriously and wriggles down once he's been carried over the threshold. He grabs her hand and pulls her towards the playroom. Greg and Mycroft watch them. As soon as the playroom door closes.

'How many kids do you have?'

'One maybe two.'

'Sherlock and John.'

'Yeah. Disgusted?'

'Why would I be?' Greg gives Mycroft a look. 'No, I'm not.'

'Why?'

'For a short time you made her happy. She adored Shock as a kid… not so much as a teenager. He rebelled against everything.'

'Now surprised me.'

'He's a couple of years younger than John.'

'Twenty eight.' Greg walks towards the kitchen

'Go and join them Mycroft. I've got dinner to cook.' Mycroft reads between the lines. He just wants to be alone. Mycroft watches him close the kitchen door and hears him slump at the kitchen table. He opens the playroom door and enters, stopping Sophia as she heads to the kitchen.

'Gregory needs to be alone to sort through things in his mind.' She nods and retakes her seat on the floor.

'Stwade?' John asks Mycroft hopefully.

'Cooking dinner.' Mycroft tells him. John's face falls. 'Do you want a story?'

'Tweasure.' Sherlock cries from his mother's lap.

'Treasure Island John?' John nods and crawls into Mycroft's legs. Mycroft pulls him closer so the toddler's back is against his chest. Donovan finds the book and passes it over. Mycroft opens it and begins to read out loud.

Greg opens the door twenty minutes later and Mycroft has re-read the first chapter. He leans on the doorframe and listens. Mycroft glances up and Greg indicates for him to keep reading. John scrambles off Mycroft's lap and clings to Greg. He hoists the boy onto his hip and enters the room fully. 'Another couple of minutes Soph.' He sits on the sofa and positions John in his lap.

'Stwade sad.' Sherlock comments.

'No Shock, just thinking.' John snuggles back into Greg's chest and sucks his thumb. John looks up at Greg.

'What dinner?' He asks around his thumb.

'Chicken nuggets and chips.' Greg answers, nuzzling the sandy-coloured hair. A quiet beeping comes from the kitchen. 'Go to Sally.' Greg nudges the boy off his lap, towards Donovan. She accepts him on her lap and cuddles him close. 'Soph.' Greg and Sophia head to the kitchen to plate up.


	22. Chapter 21, Molly Hooper

**Chapter 21**

**Molly Hooper**

Greg closes the door to the toddler's room and walks back downstairs. He glances at the door to the playroom before continuing to the dining room, just behind the playroom. He closes the door and slides down it, head in his hands. His phone rings and he glances at the screen. 'Should you be on your phone?' He greets the caller switching the voice to go through the loud speaker. Mycroft stands out of the door and listens in.

'Greg, since when did you pay any attention to these rules?' Greg laughs

'Since my beautiful understanding wife was put in hospital by unscrupulous men.'

'How are the boys?'

'Happy. Sherlock's mother is here and he's over the moon.'

'What about John?' Mycroft hears Mary asks reading between the lines.

'He's reluctant to be away from me.'

'He had a spell earlier. He and Sherlock accompanied Mycroft to visit the royal family. One of the palace employees has a strong highland accent. He unintentionally scared John. No one but me could calm him. I think he was crying for a good forty minutes.' Mycroft can hear the sound of Greg rubbing his forehead and cheeks in frustration. 'How's Dom?'

'Surviving. I gather the fight caused a minor brainstorm. I don't think there will be any lasting damage though.' Greg breathes a sigh of relief. 'He just needs to wait for some blood tests.'

'Is he hopeful?'

'He won't talk about it. I think the encounter with Harriett has really thrown him.' Mycroft softly taps on the door.

'Mycroft's been listening.'

'When does he ever not?' Shuffling sounds come from the other side of the door and Mycroft opens the dining room door. He walks in and closes the door behind him.

'Hello Mycroft.' Mary's voice floats from the speaker

'How are you faring Mary?'

'As well as I can, take care of Greg for me.'

'I am.'

'Greg, one question.'

'Go on darling.'

'Is Sherlock yours as well?' Mycroft glances across at Greg. Greg looks back at him. 'Greg?' Mary prompts.

'Yes. Before I met Diane.'

'I worked that bit out, Greg.'

'Do you hate me?' Laughter fills the room from the phone's speaker.

'Why would I hate you? I love you and I just happened to marry into a completely dysfunctional family.'

'How do you mean?' Mycroft asks.

'Mycroft come on, Shocky grew up being bullied and marginalised from society because they wouldn't attempt to try to understand him. It makes sense his father and brother-'

'Half-brother.' Mycroft interjects.

'Brother would be the ones to help him fit in. to understand.' Greg snorts.

'I don't understand half the things he spouts.'

'Be that as it may, you understand that when he insults someone, he doesn't do it intentionally, and he respects you.'

'And John?'

'In regards to you or Shock?'

'Me.'

'You can calm him with your fatherly instincts. His instincts say that you mean only to help him. His instincts might also tell him that you are blood.'

'How do you get these insights Mary?'

'I spent a year studying Child Psychology. Got bored and swapped my area of study.' Mycroft chuckles. 'Myc, when Sherlock was doing drugs and you tried to help him did he try to come off or?'

'No, he didn't try to help himself. It was almost as if he wanted to hurt us by hurting himself.'

'He tried when I helped him. Instincts?'

'I think so.' Greg sighs. 'I would get them to talk to someone officially but they both have severe trust issues and they might withdraw and refuse to talk.'

'They do need to see someone to check that everything is fine after the transformation.'

'What?' Greg burst out. 'What do you mean?'

'Calm down Greg, let him explain.'

'We just need to be sure that everything is working properly. I'm sure it is but I want to be sure that my brother and step brother are both 100% healthy.'

'Who would check them over?'

'They just need a general health check.'

'Anyone can do it?' Mary asks.

'Well yes.'

'Then ask them if they remember Molly.'

'Molly?'

'Molly Hooper, the pathologist.' Greg laughs at the confusion on Mycroft's face. Suddenly the door opens and Scarlett Holmes is framed in the doorway. 'You really are a pompous fool Mycroft.' Greg nudges the British Government fondly. 'Anything wrong Scarlett?'

'No, not particularly. We just wondered where you boys had disappeared to.' Sally and Sophia appear over her shoulders.

'Better go Mary. Get some rest love and try not to worry.'

'That will be the day. Love you. See you sometime Mycroft'

'Love you too.'

'Bye Mary.' Greg hangs up.

'You off then Sally?'

'Err, yeah. See you tomorrow?'

'Don't you know the meaning of a holiday?' Mycroft asks

'Do you?' she fires back.

'Touché.' She grins and waves before disappearing. Greg glances into the corner of the room, hidden by the door.

'I need a drink, who's joining me?'

'I think we all can do with one. That will be two gin and tonics and a scotch with whatever you have, Gregory.'

'Two G&Ts and two Scotches then. It won't be the standard you're used to Mycroft.' Greg pulls himself up and walks over to his drink cabinet and fixes the four drinks.

The next morning, he gives the boy their breakfasts after bathing them. He watches them as they dig into the bowls of cereal. Sherlock covertly watches Greg as he leans back against the side of the sink. 'Stwade?' Sherlock asks putting his spoon down.

'Yes Shock?'

'You work?'

'Am I working today?' Sherlock nods. 'No I'm not. I get to spend the day with you two today.' Two big beams grow at his comment. He laughs and ruffles both of their hair. John leans away from his hand but Sherlock leans into the caress. John eyes the unused bowl sitting on the table.

'Stwade?'

'Yeah.'

'You eaty?'

'I'm not hungry John.'

'Stwade. Eaty now.' The blonde toddler demands. Greg laughs gently again and picks up the empty bowl and fills it with muesli. He pours milk over it and sits opposite them.

'Happy now?' John nods smugly.

'The voice tell you?' John nods again, seriously this time.

'Listen you two, I need you to think about something.' The toddler stare at him 'Do either of you remember Molly Hooper?' John's brow creases and Sherlock stares at him

'Dr 'ooper.' Shock says finally.

'Morgue Molly.' John giggles. Sherlock joins in and after a few moments so does Greg. The mobile sitting on the table next to Greg rings.

'Greg Lestrade. Hi Mycroft.' He holds it out to the boys.

'Hello Mycwoft!' Sherlock shouts.

'Hello Mycoff!' John choruses. Greg brings the phone back to his ear.

'Mycroft says hi. Right yes, to business. Yes I've asked them. "Morgue Molly." That's a direct quote by the way.' John burst into peals of laughter again. 'Cheeky monkey John is. Shock said Dr Hooper when asked who Molly was.' Sherlock nods seriously. 'Right good, when?' Greg glances up at the clock. 'No we have nothing definite on for today. I was just going to blag it really.' Greg sticks his tongue out at the serious faces on the toddler's faces.

Greg leads two reluctant toddlers towards the entrance to St Bart's. He keeps a tight hold to both of their hands. 'Don't you want to see Molly, Shock?' he pouts and shakes his head. 'Why?'

'Don't wanna check up.' Greg stop and crouches down making the boys stop and face him.

'Hey Shock, if you go through with this I'll let you do a _small_ experiment in the kitchen. But you have to be supervised, preferably by me.' Sherlock's face lights up. John's darkens. Greg turns his attention to the blonde boy. 'John, you get to decide what we do for the entire day tomorrow. Food, activities, everything.' John's expression becomes on of planning and manipulation. 'Can we go in now?' they nod carefully, each thinking about what they are going to be doing after the appointments.

They walk into the morgue with each boy opening a door. Molly looks up from cleaning one of the autopsy tables. 'Can I see a body?' Sherlock asks hopefully.

'Examine a body, no experiment.' Greg says.

'Unless maybe…'

'Molly. No. Don't go there.' Molly looks confused but Greg mouths that he'll explain later. 'Where will you do the check ups?'

'In my office, you can wait in there.' Greg leads the boys towards the back. Sherlock pulls ahead but John lags behind. Greg releases Sherlock's hand and picks up John.

'What's up?'

'Scar.'

'I'm sure she's seen worse, John.' John shakes his head.

'Ovver ones.'

'John you have no other scars. I put you to bed yesterday, got you up this morning. You have no other scars apart from a smaller version of the bullet wound.' John relaxes into his arms. 'Do you want to go first? Get it over and done with.'

'Pease.' Greg joins Sherlock in the office and watches, as he swings round on her office chair. Molly joins them shortly drying her hands.

'I gather Mycroft has filled you in.'

'Yes. Bit creepy.'

'What is?' Sherlock asks.

'The whole idea.'

'What bout us?'

'Good point, who's going first?'

'John is.'

'Normally, this is point where I'd kick Greg out. But under the circumstances-'

'Boys, wait outside the door for a sec.' Greg interrupts. He waits until the door is closed. 'Molly, please don't tell them yet but they both are my kids. They are half-brothers.' Molly gapes at him.

'Bring them in.' She says pulling herself together. Greg opens the door and ushers the boys in.

Two hours later, Molly walks Greg and the toddlers out of the hospital. Both of the children wear identical frowns. Over their heads, Molly and Greg grin at each other. 'I didn't think it was that bad.' They scowl up at them he chuckles.

'Come on, it wasn't, was it?' Molly asks them. John nods.

'Was.'

'Where are you going now?' John and Sherlock look up at their father grinning.

'No. We aren't going there.' The toddlers whine.

'Pease.'

'Where?'

'Kids?'

'The pwlace.' Molly coughs.

'Buckingham Palace?'

'Yeah, they went with Mycroft yesterday. They met the Queen, and Princes Harry and William with Katherine.'

'Molly, can I have some finger bones for my experiment?'

'What is the experiment?' Greg asks dubiously

'Swrength.'

'Huh?'

'He wants to find out how much weight a single bone can carry on its own.'

'Oh.' John giggles at the relieved expression.

'Shall I bring them round later?'

'Please Molly.' Greg jiggles Sherlock hands. 'What do we say?'

'Fank you.' The two toddlers drag Greg away from the hospital heading towards the city of London. Molly stands and watches the Detective Inspector being dragged away by the children. She smiles fondly as they head around a corner before turning and heading back to her regular duties. It had been a pleasant change but she is glad to get back to her normal routine.


	23. Chapter 22, The Treats

**Chapter 22**

**The Treats**

Sherlock and Greg sit at the dining room table waiting for Molly to drop off the finger bones and weight measures. Sherlock is trying to create a reliable tripod to hang the bones across keeping them steady and in place. The toddler growls as the impromptu tripod falls yet again. 'Do you need some help?'

'No.'

'Either way,' Greg steps forward. 'How about this?' Greg takes two of the sticks lying on the table and binds them together at one end to make a v. He repeats the motions three more times. Sherlock watches him shrewdly. Greg lays two of the v's so one stick of each is over lapping in the middle creating m's. He repeats the action with the other two. 'Hold this.' He slides the w over to Sherlock and stands his up. Sherlock stands his up at a sensible distance away from Greg's. 'Blu-tack.' Greg says suddenly. 'Hold mine.' Sherlock reaches out and keeps it propped up. Greg rises and heads upstairs to his study. He quickly returns carrying the packet of blue tack and two small pieces of cardboard and fixes a small amount of the blu-tack to each of the stick ends touching the table. Sherlock quickly works out what Greg is doing and does the same to his m. they press the blu-tack to the cardboard and lay the final two stick lengthways between the two m's. Sherlock sits back in his seat satisfied with the no longer tripod but now suspension rig.

'Molly bringing weights?'

'She's bringing the weights and bones, yes.' Sherlock slumps in his seat, arms crossed and pout on his face.

'When?'

'She'll be here soon Shock.' Sherlock scowls before sitting up and listening intently. He slouches again.

'Bored.'

'God help me.' Greg mutters.

'Where's Don?'

'Shopping for tomorrow's food with Sophia.' The doorbell rings and Greg all but sprints to the door much to Sherlock's amusement.

Sophia pushes the trolley with John in the child's seat facing her. 'No weggies.' She taps his nose fondly.

'We have to have vegetables. Which ones?' John scowls. 'Shock has had to make allowances, you have to as well.' John twists to look at all the stands in the vegetable aisle. He points to the carrots and celery. Sophia pushes the trolley over to the celery first.

'You're lucky, to have your son eat celery so young.' A woman tells her. Sophia turns and lets a small giggle escape her lips.

'He's not my son. He's my nephew.'

'He's adorable.' John scowls as the woman pats his head. Sophia inspects the heads of celery. Selecting one she hands it to the toddler. John looks at it and nods. Sophia takes it off him and puts it in the trolley behind him.

'Carrots.' Sophia selects a bag of carrots and the woman follows her.

'How old is he?'

'Three.' Sophia says simply hoping to dismiss the woman. The unidentified woman nods. 'What now?' John thinks with his thumb in his mouth. He twists round in his seat and looks at the nearby aisles. John points his free hand towards the dairy aisle. 'I think cheese?' John nods. Sophia pushes the trolley in the direction of the cheeses but bumps into someone because she was focused on persuading John to remove his thumb from his mouth. 'Sorry, Sir.' the man turns round.

'Its okay.' An Irish accent drawls. John freezes in his seat. 'You were concentrating on your… nephew.' Sophia notices John's anxiety and runs her fingers through his hair to calm him. John resolutely keeps his back to the accent. 'Here you go.'

'Thank you.' Sophia pushes the trolley past the well-dressed Irish man and John twists round in an attempt to avoid looking at him. It fails and John soon finds himself staring into the eyes of the consulting criminal.

'What's his name?'

'John.' The eyes narrow on both John and Jim. Sophia is unaware of the staring battle between the people of opposite sides of the law.

'John, named after the saint I suppose?' Sophia laughs gently.

'I have no idea, I was abroad when he was born.' Jim's smiles but it doesn't quite catch his eyes. 'You would have to ask my sister, I'm afraid.' Sophia looks around for a particular type of cheese. 'Wait for a moment John, be back in a sec.' Sophia darts over to the other end of the cheese display and checks the pricings. Jim leans over John.

'Hello Johnny boy, who turned you into a child? I know you recognised Me.' his singsong voice makes shivers run down John's spine. He determinedly keeps his thumb in his mouth, refusing to talk. The singsong part of the voice drops. 'Is Sherlock like this?' The toddler hesitates before nodding. 'Who did it?' John shrugs, thumb firmly in his mouth. Sophia returns forcing James Moriarty to return to his persona. Sophia smiles broadly at Jim.

'Soppy, wanna walk.' Jim pretends to melt at John's lisp. The toddler glares at the criminal as Sophia loads the cheese into the trolley. She straightens and lifts the boy out of the trolley seat.

'Hold on to the trolley then.' Sophia tells him. John ignores Jim as Sophia pushes the trolley out of the aisle. Jim follows them around the store at a careful distance.

Greg leads Molly into the dining room. Sherlock beams at the sight of her. She places a large cool bag on the table and leaves it. Sherlock looks at it then back at her. Greg watches the interaction. 'Shock?' His tone has a warning edge to it.

'Fank you Molly.' Molly smiles.

'It's okay Sherlock.'

'What did you bring?'

'Umm, I figured that you would want a variety of finger bones.' She unzips the lip to the cooler. 'So we've got male, female, child all with marrow and the same without marrow.'

'A number of each?'

'Yes.'

'Umm, Molly have you got any plans for later?' Greg asks hesitantly

'No. Well I did but they'd cancelled before you had arrived for the check ups. Why?'

'Good to know we haven't ruined your evening. Could you assist Sherlock with the experiment, I think you're more qualified than me.'

'Yeah, okay with you Sherlock?' Sherlock nods absentmindedly as he sorts through the various weights Molly brought.

'Stay for dinner?'

'Okay.' Greg grins and leaves the two of them to start the experiment in peace.

An hour later, Sophia and John arrive back at the house with the shopping. As soon as the front door closes John runs to find Sherlock. First he tries the playroom then he tries the dining room. Lucky the second time round, he tugs Sherlock off his chair and into the playroom. 'Don!' Sherlock protests. 'Me busy.'

'Jim.' John says simply. Sherlock freezes.

'Jim?' Sherlock questions. John nods.

'Jim knows.'


	24. Chapter 23, Jim Knows

**Chapter 23**

**Jim Knows**

Greg answers the door and freezes at the figure standing with his back to the door. The figure turns confirming Greg's suspicions that James Moriarty, consulting criminal, is in fact still alive and had faked his death on the same day Sherlock had. The criminal observes the policeman with a small smirk. 'Surprised to see me Inspector?' The Irish rogue drawls. 'Mind if I come in?' Greg plants himself in the doorway.

'I would rather you didn't.' The Irish man pouts.

'Oh, no fun.'

'What do you want Moriarty?'

'I want to know what happened to Johnny Boy.' He shrugs with his hands in his pocket. 'Sorry, shouldn't have followed, Sophia isn't it?'

'What. Do. You. Want. Moriarty?' Jim's expression hardens

'No one hurts my enemies with out my say so.' Sherlock and John inch the playroom door open and peek out.

'So you are the only ones aloud to hurt them?'

'Pretty much. I can't play my games without the best opponents I can find. Dear Shirley's the best,'

'He hates to be called Shirley.'

'So what's his nickname? No, I can guess. No not Shock?' Molly walks out of the dining room.

'What's going on? _Jim_?'

'Hello Molly.'

'What are you doing here?' Molly folds her arms. 'You better not be thinking about hurting John or Sherlock.' Jim makes a face of mock surprise.

'Why would I do that?'

'I can think of a few reasons.' Greg mutters. 'You may as well come in.' he steps back. Jim steps over the threshold.

'Oh, dangerous. Could be accused with cavorting with criminals.'

'Shut up, get in, first door.' Jim looks down and sees the two toddlers. He smiles his reptilian smile. Sophia walks out of the kitchen carrying two juice boxes and hands one each to the toddlers. They clutch them but don't drink any.

'Oh hello again, another for dinner?'

'No.' Greg and Sherlock say simultaneously.

'Oh, Shocky, Shocky, Shocky, you don't play nice.' Sherlock replies with a couple of profanities that a three-year-old has no business knowing.

'Sherlock Nathan Byron Holmes, stop using that language immediately.' Greg tells the boy sternly. Sherlock refuses to answer and tugs on Molly's sleeve.

'Molly.' He whines. She smiles and allows him to tow her back to the dining room. Jim watches them before looking at John.

'Come near me and I'll bite you.'

'Bite me?'

'I don't have my gun do I?' He retorts before joining Sherlock and Molly.

'Playroom and don't upset them. I don't need tantrums today.'

'Playroom?' Greg pushes past the consulting criminal and walks into the playroom.

'Yes, a room where the boys can play safely. Got a problem with that?' Greg shuts the door on Sophia.

'No.'

'Good.'

'Just out of a simpleton's curiousity, why are you looking after them?'

'You aren't simple in any which way. Why wouldn't I?'

'Above and beyond the call of duty isn't it?'

'Not for friends and family.' Greg snaps back. Jim lifts an eyebrow. 'Sherlock Holmes is as good as a son to me and John Watson is one of my best friends. Happy?'

'Yes. Who hurt them?'

'Depends what you mean by hurt.'

'Made them like that.' he pauses. 'What else could I have meant?'

'Physical injury, mental injury, abuse.'

'Go on.'

'Why would I? Although I'm pretty sure John wouldn't mind if Henry Jonathon Watson should mysteriously disappear from Mycroft Holmes' custody and end up deceased.'

'Why wouldn't he?'

'Henry Watson belittled and thrashed John from between the ages of seven and twelve. Before that he bullied and belittled John's mother with the little boy watching on.' Greg's voice drops it's sharp tones and becomes a lot quieter. 'Besides Henry Watson isn't John's biological father.'

'And how would you know that?'

'I know… knew his mother.'

'Knew?'

'She died… the day they changed.'

'How?'

'Beaten to death by Henry. But John doesn't know yet.' The doorbell goes again and Greg goes to answer it. Jim uses the time to have a closer look around the playroom. He pauses when he hears Greg's voice greeting the people at the door. 'Hi Mary, Mycroft.' Jim tiptoes to the window and peeks out of the corner of the window trying to see them. 'Thanks for bringing her home Mycroft.'

'It was no problem.'

'Mary, go upstairs and rest.'

'No.' Jim grimaces at the kiss. 'Not until I've seen the kids anyway.'

'Dining Room.'

'Not the playroom?'

'Shock's Experiments.'

'Oh okay.' Footsteps walk down the hall and go into the next room.

'How were the check-ups?'

'All normal.'

'Good.' Jim can hear the relief in Mycroft's voice.

'Mycroft, Jim Moriarty knows about what happened.'

'How?'

'He bumped into Sophia and John in the Supermarket. He's in the playroom.' Greg re-enters the playroom with Mycroft hard on his heels.

'James Moriarty.'

'Mr Holmes.'

'Decided to be civil have you?'

'Don't be so worried, big brother. I won't hurt them while they're still small. Would be no fun.'

'They still have their minds.'

'Oh I know. Johnny's shown that rather well.'

'What is your motive in coming here?'

'I want to destroy whoever hurt them.'

'I told him, that we wouldn't really mind if Henry Watson senior disappeared from your custody. Saves your time and resources as it were.'

'Go ahead. Have you told him about?'

'That no. It's none of his business.'

'Technically it is.'

'Technically it's not. All the people who need to know, with the exception of maybe one person, know.'

'Right.'

'Plus a couple of others who didn't really.' Mary sticks her head in the door. She spots Jim and frowns, before shaking her head and smiling at her husband. 'Going to rest?'

'Stop fussing. But yeah, I am.'

'I'm aloud to fuss, I'm your husband.' They share a kiss before Greg shoos her up the stairs.

'I'm going, I'm going.'

'Beautiful woman.'

'You touch her I will hunt you down and make sure you stay alive in the most torturous conditions possible until you beg for death.'

'Please be imaginative.'

'Don't need to, got Sherlock and Mycroft to be that for me.'

'Do Sherlock and John know they're half-brothers?' Greg stares daggers at Jim 'Do they know you're their father? Oh, come on, I am a genius. Between the pair of them they have all the qualities you have, just amplified.' Jim sighs. 'To be fair I wasn't completely sure until the pool escapade. I have had my eye on you Inspector. To be father to two extraordinary people in different ways is quite an achievement.' Jim stands and approaches Greg while speaking until the pair of them are face to face.

'Then you know that if anything happens to either of them and I get the slightest whiff that you were involved you know what I would do.' Jim laughs.

'Oh I know.' He backs off a tiny bit. 'I wish you were my father inspector. Mind you, I'm glad you're not but wow, just wow.' Jim edges between Greg and Mycroft and opens the Playroom door. He speaks loudly with mock humility 'Good bye Inspector, Good bye Mr Holmes, Bye Molly, Bye Boys.' Jim walks quickly down the hall and wrenches the door open, he steps through and slams it behind him.


	25. Chapter 24, Treat Day

**Chapter 24**

**Treat Day**

The next morning two toddlers bound into the bedroom belonging to their guardians. The one with blonde hair tugs on the sleeve of the toddler with a mop of raven curls. 'Be careful of her ribs.' The slightly taller one nods and he scrambles onto the bed under the duvet. He helps the blonde one up. They quietly crawl up the bed under the duvet before pouncing on a guardian.

'The zoo. The zoo.' They cry. Greg laughs, as John startles him awake.

'Excited?' John nods. 'Shock be careful.'

'I am.' The little boy pouts.

'He didn't get my ribs, Greg.' She tickles Sherlock stomach. John curls into Greg's embrace and snuggles down. Greg eases the duvet from over them and carries his blonde-haired son into the bathroom. Mary follows with Sherlock over her shoulder.

'Don't wanna bath.' Sherlock whines from his position over Mary's shoulder.

'No bath, no zoo.' Mary warns and Sherlock stop wriggling allowing her to remove him and deposit him on the bathroom floor before slipping him into the bath.

'We don't want a repeat of yesterday boys.' Greg warns.

'What happened?'

'Water fight.' Greg growls trying not to grin. 'Took me and Sophia an hour to clear up after them.' Mary cocks her head towards him. Greg tries to hide his smile in the collar of his pyjama jacket.

'So why are you trying to hide your smile?'

'I'm not.' He protests. Mary kisses him on the cheek and finishes bathing Sherlock. Greg lifts John out of the water, wraps him in a towel and carries him out of the bathroom. Still grinning.

'Shock what happened yesterday?'

'Nuffing.'

'Check up?' Sherlock pulls a face. 'I'll take that as a yes. I know about the experiment.' Sherlock looks up at her with big wide eyes. 'It was the day before wasn't it?'

'What was?' Sherlock asks innocently in the cooling bath water.

'Come on. Out you get.' Mary lifts the boy out of the bathtub and follows Greg's footsteps over the landing. The two of them enter the boy's room and smile at the sight of Greg being bullied out of his pyjama jacket by John.

'Off.' The boy demands pulling at the sleeve.

'No.' He replies pushing it up his arm.

'Off.'

'No.'

'Off.'

'No.'

'Off.'

'No.' Greg tickles John under his jumper making him fall back on the mattress shaking with laughter.

'Swap?' Mary asks.

'No.' John protests. Mary and Sherlock approach John's bed.

'You can pick out an outfit for me and Uncle Greg to wear to the zoo.' John's brow crinkles.

'Go on. I'll be right here. You'll be fine. I thought you liked Auntie Mary.'

'I do.'

'I won't disappear. I promise.' John gives him a weak smile and climbs down from the bed. He takes hold of Mary's hand and Sherlock is transferred to Greg's care. John and Mary head, hand in hand, to the master bedroom.

Two hours later, Greg and Mary unbuckle the two toddlers from their car seats in the car park along side London Zoo and set them on the ground. 'Pushchair or reins?'

'Walk.' John says looking around.

'Shock?'

'Walk.'

'We can use the pushchair for the bags. Until they need the rest.' Mary says setting the lunch bags and teddy bears in the seats of the pushchair.

'Agreed.' Sherlock spots someone in the near distance and runs over to greet them.

'Shock.' The person scoops him up and carries him back over.

'Greg, Mary.'

'Sally.' Greg relieves the detective sergeant from the burden of the toddler. 'Do that again and it's pushchair only, young man.' Sally smiles as Mary fixes the reins around John's torso. Greg sets Sherlock down and does the same, holding firmly to the handle to keep him close.

'Are you joining us Sally?' Mary asks.

'Sure, if it's okay with you.'

'Why wouldn't it be? I need to talk to you about something, but it can wait.' Sherlock pulls on his reigns trying to get closer to the entrance to the zoo. 'Easy tiger.'

'Lets not keep them hanging around.' Mary says noting the expression on Sherlock's face. The five of them move towards the entrance but Sally veers off to her car.

'Need to get a couple of things from my car. Meet you by the birds of prey.' Sally waves as she heads to the car and Greg allows Sherlock to pull him in the direction of the queues. Mary and John follow more sedately. The lead of John's reins looped around Mary's arm as she pushes the buggy.

After fours hours of strolling around the zoo looking at several species of animals and stopping at a picnic table to eat a satisfying lunch, Sally, Greg, Sherlock, John and Mary head towards the aquarium and the "Into Africa" exhibit. Someone pushes past the group nudging Mary in her injured ribs and walks off without apologising or seeing if she is all right. Mary bends over slightly winded. As Greg and Sally turn to assist her two other people grab the toddlers and disappear into the crowd, smothering their cries. Sally turns to look at the toddlers but sees only empty space. 'Sherlock, John.' She spins full circle and entirely fails to see them. She spots a bench and runs over to get a higher view point.'

'Where are they?' Sally can clearly hear the panic in Greg's voice.

'Greg calm down. Sally ring Mycroft.' Sally hops down from the bench and fumbles for her phone. She manages to dial the direct line to Mycroft.

'Hi, please tell me you have camera eyes on Sherlock and John.' Sally closes her eyes and breathes deeply as she listens to the reply. 'What? Great. Absolutely fantastic.' She aborts the call. 'He has an amazing view of their abduction but all the cameras in the zoo shorted at exactly the same time.'

'What else did he say?' Sally shrugs. 'I hung up.'

'Greg, have you told her?'

'Not yet, Sally come here and sit down.'

'Why?'

'Just do it.'

'What about security?'

'Mycroft will have alerted them and given them all the details needed. Sit down.' Sally complies. 'Jim Moriarty is back.' Sally's eyes bulge.

'Sally, wait, let him finish.'

'He knows about what's happened. He knows what but not how. But, that not the most important.' He silences Sally's protest. 'Those two are my kids. Sherlock and John are half brothers that share a father. Me. And before you ask it was a couple of misplaced flings. But no one else at the yard needs to know. They don't know.'

'O.K.' Sally says taking it all in. 'A lot to process.'

'Don't I know it.' Greg mutters as security officials approach them.

'Mr Lestrade?'

'Me, and it's Detective Inspector actually.'

'What happened?'

'Some one pushed into my wife, jarring her recently injured ribs and as our friend and I turned to help her kidnapped our wards.'

'Not sons?'

'What does it matter, but yes I am their guardian not their father.' Sally smirks at the blatant lie.

'Why do you think kidnapped rather than run away?'

'Over the past few days John has been extremely reluctant for me to be out of his sightline. Why would he just run off? Sherlock, on the other hand, might do but he wouldn't, not without John.'

'Are they close?'

'Best of friends, as well as brothers.' Greg runs his hands through his hair impatiently. 'Is this how parents feel?' He asks rhetorically. 'God I feel useless.'

'We'll let the police know. I think it's best if you go home.'

'I am the police.'

'Greg,' Mary lays a comforting hand on his arm, 'Let them do their job, you are on leave remember. I'm sure Sally, can co-ordinate between your colleagues and the zoo's security.'

'Sally?'

'Me. Detective Sergeant Sally Donovan. I'll call it in. My leave has just been cut short.' Greg opens his mouth but she cuts him off. 'And I wouldn't have it any other way.' She turns to the security officer completely professional. 'Where's the security lodge?'


	26. Chapter 25, Unwarranted Help

**Chapter 25**

**Unwarranted Help**

Sally watches as Greg and Mary dejectedly push an empty buggy along the zoo paths. She sighs heavily and turns to follow the security guard to the booth. As she turns, she bumps into a tourist with his baseball cap pulled low over his eyes. 'Oh, sorry.'

'Sergeant Donovan, I would expect more from you.' An Irish drawl makes her freeze. The tourist lifts his head and Sally sees the reptilian expression of James Moriarty.

'You had better not have anything to do with it.'

'With what?'

'You don't know.' She treads carefully. His eyes flick to further down the path.

'Greggy and Mary seem to be severely unhappy. I wonder why.' His eyes narrow searching. 'No toddlers, where's Shocky and Johnny?' a possessive glint comes into his eyes.

'Kidnapped.'

'How?'

'Distraction. Mary's injured.'

'Interesting. I'll get looking for you.' He steps past Sally. She turns as he walks.

'You want to help?'

'A little thing you need to know about me Donovan. I don't share; the only person allowed to hurt dear little Sherlock is me. Me and only me. Every time you and that rat-faced imbecile have insulted him I have wanted to destroy you. However since you have been very kind and loving towards him recently I've let you slide. The rat, however, has something very special coming for him.'

'Meaning?'

'Meaning, I'm going to help you hunt down whatever moron has taken dear Shocky and Johnny and you will let me go this time. Dear god, I'm on totally the wrong side of the law.'

'Sergeant Donovan, are you coming?' Sally turns to look at the security guard who'd called.

'Give me a minute.' She calls back. She looks back to face Jim again only to find he had stalked off and was now approaching the Lestrades with his cap firmly back over her eyes. She shakes her head and walks over to the security guard.

'Who was that?'

'Potential witness.'

'Well?'

'Nothing, what else do you expect?' She snarls walking past him.

Jim approaches Greg cautiously. 'What do you want Jim?' He speaks without turning his back on Mary.

'How did you know I was here?' Jim is pleasantly surprised.

'What do you want?'

'To help.'

'What?'

'What?'

'You want to help?'

'Oh please be imaginative.'

'Jim.' Greg growls warningly.

'Only your sergeant said exactly the same thing.'

'Considering your track record, we're right to be cautious.'

'And I meant what I told you yesterday.'

'About destroying whoever hurts my sons? Sorry Jim, that's my job.'

'Yet I knew they were your boys long before you did.' Jim smirks. 'And I can get the message around London a lot quicker than you can.' Greg hesitates, the father in him clearly wanting to take Jim up on the offer but the police officer telling him not to get involved with the criminal.

'Only you and Donovan would know.' Jim inspects his nails. 'The cameras are still out. I'll be gone before they come back on. No evidence.'

'Just my conscience.' Greg snaps.

'Overrated.'

'No, just what saves me from being you.'

'Greg, who is he?'

'I'll tell you later Mary. Once I've got you home.'

'Do you want my help inspector. I may not be the nicest person you're acquainted with but I'm not the most dishonest.'

'You lied to the journalist, Kitty Riley.' Jim sneers.

'Scum, worse than most criminal classes. I keep my promises. Besides, I promised I would burn Sherlock, I did.' Greg groans.

'Greg, stop what's in your head fighting with what's in your heart. Do what you think is the best way for Sherlock and John to be returned safe and sound.' Greg leans his and his wife's foreheads together.

'One minute.' They ignore him.

'Do you trust me?'

'I'll always trust you.' Greg looks sideways at Jim.

'Do it. Ten seconds.' Jim takes the hint and walks off down the path, pausing at the odd exhibit being the archetypal tourist.

'Who is he Greg?'

'Depends on who you believe. Kitty Riley, he's Richard Brook an actor paid by Sherlock Holmes to be the face of a criminal network. Sherlock thinks he's the best opponent for him for him to play with. John thinks Jim's a psychopath of the highest calibre who entertains Sherlock just enough to make our detective to stop being bored and destroying the flat. The Yard, they don't know what to think. Mycroft, a dangerous psychopath who must be stopped ASAP. Me, I think he's a psychopath, but a damaged man, he's clever and I think he just wants someone to believe in him. At this moment, he's a means to an end.' Greg smiles grimly. He pulls Mary gently to her feet, 'come on, it's not that far to the car.'

'Greg, I believe you.'

'What?'

'That Jim Moriarty is a damaged man. Someone must have really screwed him around when he was young. He could almost be yours.'

'Mary.'

'I said almost. Sherlock, John and Jim all have different parts of your personality. Together they make a perfect you.'

'I would hate to disappoint you, Mary, but Jim is Irish through and through.'

'So? Sherlock was born from a one-nighter wasn't he?'

'Are you saying my youth was misspent?'

'How old is he?'

'I'm not actually sure.' Greg admits. 'But it doesn't matter. What matters is that we get Sherlock and John back safe and sound. Unharmed and happy.'

'Adult or toddler?'

'I don't actually care.' Greg and Mary follow the path that Jim had taken and walk slowly but surely make their way to the Zoo's exit and the car. As they walk Greg notices out of the corner of his eye that the cameras are back online. A couple of them zero in on him and Mary. He ignores them but keeps a lookout in case of any other potential incidents that would distract the security from searching for the toddlers inside the zoo.

'The cameras are back online.' He murmurs to Mary. 'I think the kidnappers have left with the boys. No point in sticking around.'

'Car park?' Mary asks hopefully.

'Those cameras will have been shorted as well.' Mary's shoulders slump.

'They'll be terrified.'

'Sherlock will cope. John, I'm worried about him. Since the accident in the park, he hasn't wanted to be that far away from me. He was reluctant to go to the supermarket with Sophia yesterday. You saw what he was like earlier.'

'He'll be fine. He's got your dependability, loyalty and most important of all your bravery.' Greg smiles weakly.


	27. Chapter 26, Kidnap Investigated

**Chapter 26**

**Kidnapped Investigated**

Mycroft sits at his desk trawling through footage from all the cameras covering the area immediately surrounding the zoo edges, looking for any sign of the two toddlers. A knock sounds at the door but he ignores it preferring to keep his eyes and attention fixed on the screen. The door opens. 'I'm busy.' He snaps refusing to look up.

'Busy? What with?' Mycroft looks up at his mother.

'Kidnap.'

'Who?'

'I'm busy mother. I don't have time to talk to you at the moment.' Scarlett shows the characteristic temper of the Holmes family by slamming her hands on paperwork right in front of Mycroft.

'Who. Has. Been. Kidnapped. Mycroft?' he hesitates clearly reluctant to tell his mother anything.

'Shock. John.' He mutters keeping his eyes fixed on the screen. Scarlett sinks into one of the seats on the opposite side of the desk.

'What?'

'Sherlock and John were taken by a distraction kidnap.'

'How do you know that?'

'I have remote surveillance on the Lestrade family. Level 3 active. Unfortunately I only have footage of the kidnap and nothing more. The cameras were frozen at source.'

'Enabling them to get clean away.'

'And the crying toddlers would be put down to being tired and nervous, rather than being forcefully taken from their guardians.' Mycroft adds, running his hands through his hair. His phone rings. 'Mycroft Holmes.' he listens. 'It looks like we'll need his help, as much as I would love to knock him for six. What's he wearing?' Mycroft notes down the clothes that Moriarty had been wearing in his trip to the zoo. 'I'll invite him in for a little chat.' Mycroft pauses listening to the person on the other end of the line. 'Gregory, listen to me. Panicking does not help, pretend this is just another case. Ignore the fact that it's Sherlock and John.' Scarlett winces as she hears Greg's reply.

'Mycroft they are my sons. I just can't ignore that fact.'

'I wasn't implying that you should ignore the fact that they are your sons, I was saying just pretend they aren't for now. So you can think clearly. Imagination is our worst enemy at this point. Greg. No. Listen to me. I need you to think like the Detective Inspector you are rather than an emotional wreck.'

'Let me speak to him.' Scarlett says quietly.

'What? Why?'

'Let me speak to him.'

'Do you want to speak to my mother Gregory?' Mycroft hands the receiver over to the desk to his mother.'

'Gregory.' Scarlett greets him. 'What happened exactly?'

'Distraction kidnap. Mary has recently been injured and someone nudged the site of injury as we turned to check on her accomplices snatched the toddlers.' Greg says simply. 'Listen, I'll be coming in the office.'

'Which one?'

'I'm coming to you after I drop Mary off at home. We'll talk then.' Greg aborts the call from his end before Scarlett can reply.

'He hung up.'

'What's he going to do?' Mycroft asks.

'He's coming here, after he's dropped Mary off at home.' Mycroft scrubs at his face. He reaches over to the intercom and requests a large pot of tea for himself and his mother. Scarlett rises from the chair and wanders over to the window. She looks out through the bulletproof glass. 'What is it Mycroft?'

'What happened?' Scarlett doesn't need to ask when her elder son is talking about.

'Your father was always away. I was lonely. Gregory was there and he was lonely. What else do you want me to say?'

'Where was he?' Mycroft asks.

'Who? Gregory or your father?'

'Both.'

'Gregory and I were invited to a party. He knew the husband, from work I think, I grew up with the wife. We met and, well, you know the rest. Your father was I think it the States but it could have been Switzerland.'

'Where was I?'

'At home with your Governess. It was only the one night.'

'Never the less it still happened.' Greg says from the doorway. 'I came in the back way.' Greg answers Mycroft's unasked question. He turns his attention back to Scarlett. 'Why didn't you tell me?'

'I didn't know how to contact you.'

'Bullshit. You could have asked our mutual friends.'

'I wasn't sure, it was yours.'

'You said your husband wouldn't be home for a couple months and he had been gone over four.'

'I naively thought it would go away.'

'Did he know?'

'I don't know. If he did he didn't say anything. Treated him as if he was his own son.'

'Father did his duty. Sherlock wasn't the easiest person to live with, he was a happy baby and toddler but it was school that changed him.'

'And the bullying stayed with him all his life.' Greg finishes. 'I know, I was there listening to his fever rambles during the withdrawals.'

'What did he say?' Scarlett asks.

'He repeated stuff people had said to him. All the taunts, the jibes, the name-calling. Everything anyone said to belittle him. Broke my heart, especially after the overdose.'

'What overdose?' Scarlett asks.

'You didn't tell her?' Mycroft cringes. _It takes a lot to make a Holmes cringe_ Greg thought. 'When I first met him he was high and he had stumbled onto a crime scene. He deduced the scene in no more than five minutes. I also took him back to the cells for him to come off his high. I felt sorry for him and said that if he needed help I could call me. I gave him my card and let him go. I managed to talk him out of four potential relapses just by being there and giving him the support he needed. However, one time I wasn't able and I think he thought I had abandoned him. I was on the other side of the country with next to no reception. But as soon as I was able I got back to London and went straight to him. I was minutes away from being too late. Apparently, the drugs squad had found him hanging around outside the den of known dealer and they started making fun of him. He couldn't cope and found a different dealer and tried to' Greg's voice breaks into a sob. He tries to pull himself together but breaks down against the door. 'I just want my boys back.' Scarlett hurries across the room and envelops him in her arms.

'I know.' She murmurs.

'Anyhow, I helped him realise that even if he couldn't get through to me I would be there eventually. And when John came on the scene I couldn't have been happier for him, for either of them in fact.' Mycroft's phone starts to ring stopping either of the Holmes' from asking any more questions.

'Hello?' Mycroft presses a button and lays the receiver on the desk. 'Jim. What an unpleasant surprise.' Greg grimaces.

'Hello, people. Who am I talking to?'

'Sherlock's family.'

'Oh, Mummy, Daddy and Big Brother.'

'Jim, what have you got?' I am really not in the mood.' Greg snaps at the phone.

'Three potential leads. Lead numero uno; the only people who can deface the CCTV network that completely apart from the cops, government and me is Langdale Pike.'

'Others have hacked the system.'

'Not like Langdale can. But he's not that much of a rogue.'

'Lead uimhir a dó; the only people who aren't working with my say so or knowledge would be the Althelney Network, I'm working on whether they would have reason to kidnap the toddlers.'

'The Althelney Network. New in town trying to make a name for themselves.' Greg comments. 'We have our eyes on them.'

'Lead number three, my agents say that they are possibly being held in the Bermondsey area of London.'

'Hour travel?'

'At most. More likely thirty minutes.' Mycroft confirms.

'This is means you'll stop chasing me, right?' Jim tone is almost childishly hopeful.

'If you stop committing crimes yes. If not no.'

'But I don't!'

'You orchestrate them.' Jim hangs up making Greg and Mycroft grin (grimace?) at each other.

'So what now?' Scarlett asks.


	28. Chapter 27, The Kidnap

**Chapter 27**

**The Kidnap**

The people who had snatched Sherlock and John in the Zoo shove them into a handy pushchair. As soon as the toddlers realise what is going on they begin to cry. John loudly. Sherlock quietly. Other visitors to the park glance over at the crying toddlers and the kidnappers have apologetic expressions on their faces. 'Can you shut them up?' One tourist mutters as he walks past.

'Oh, I'm sorry my sons are extremely tired and can't sleep with too many people about.' The kidnapper snaps. He glances around to check the positioning of them in regards to the off duty policeman and sighs heavily. He unstraps Sherlock and lifts him into his arms. John's cries increase and but Sherlock's quieten. 'Here now, you'll be okay.' He coos. One of the other kidnappers glances strangely at him. 'What? It's cover.'

'If you say so.'

'He's clamed down hasn't he?' the kidnapper smirks his accomplice looks away not wanting to admit defeat. 'Pass me the drink.' He accepts the boxed drink from another kidnapper and inserts the straw. He holds it up to Sherlock's mouth. Sherlock instinctively takes it and drinking. The kidnapper straps Sherlock back into the chair as he finishes off the box. Minutes later the taller toddler is asleep. John stops crying and looks over at his sleeping friend. The kidnappers seize the opportunity to give John another of the drugged juice boxes. Unwittingly John takes it and finishes it falling into a deep sleep. All of the kidnappers relax and push the toddlers out of one of the Zoo exits and into the centre of London.

'How long will they be out?'

'About two or three hours.'

'Good.' The third kidnapper (the one who walked into Mary) pushes the buggy through the London Streets towards their base.

After a twenty-minute walk, the group of three adults and two toddlers arrive at the street where the kidnappers' base is situated. They turn into an alley and make sure that no one can see them. One of the kidnappers who has been walking by the side of the opens the door and carefully unstraps Sherlock and lifts the unconscious toddler in her arms, making sure his head is supported on her shoulder. 'I thought you didn't know how to look after kids.'

'I have had a child before.' She snaps quietly. 'I said I didn't want to be the sole one who had to look after them.' Sherlock stirs in his sleep and she soothes him. He settles quickly. She carries him into the building. The other kidnapper who had been walking by the side of the buggy copies the female kidnapper and picks John out of the buggy carries him inside. The third toddlers' captor folds up the pushchair and props it up on the inside of the door after stepping in himself. Minutes later, the other two kidnappers re-join him at the door.

'Sam, who's staying?'

'You.' Sam, the female kidnapper, answers. 'Thomas will join you in an hour. We'll be back in three to relieve you.'

'Sam, I know nothing about kids.'

'Tony, they're asleep. Just make sure they don't choke. If they have a nightmare stroke their back in soft but firm strokes. Come on George, we need to go and report to Althelney.' Sam and George step past Tony and leave the building. Tony shuts the door behind them and glances towards the locked room where the toddlers are sleeping off the drugs.

An hour later, the toddlers are still sleeping but the door to their room is open and Tony sits with them as he strokes John's back soothing him back into a deep sleep. Someone knocks at the exterior door making Tony jump. The person outside knocks again this time in a rhythm. Tony quickly makes his way over to tap out the answering knock. They whisper passwords through the door and satisfied Tony opens the door admitting Thomas. 'Hey Tom.'

'How are the kids?'

'Sleeping, the blonde one had a nightmare, so I've been sitting with them.'

'He wake?'

'Nah. I caught it in time.'

'What are we doing?'

'What do you mean?'

'Taking the kids. All we've found is that he has fathered no kids.'

'Suddenly he starts looking after two toddlers. So the bosses said snatch them. They failed epically in the park.'

'It's strange.' Tom mutters.

'What is?'

'The dark haired one looks like that detective bloke.'

'Which detective bloke, the cop.'

'Don't be stupid, the one who faked his death.'

'Oh, Sherlock Holmes.'

'Yeah.'

'Now that you mention it, he does. Uncanny isn't it.'

'What is?'

'You see him in the kid, chances are he'll get involved in the case.'

'What case?'

'The copper's friends with him right.' Tom nods. 'His kids, charges or what have you have been kidnapped. Course he's gonna get involved.'

'Suppose.'

'No suppose about it.' Tony closes the door to the toddler's room. They head through the kitchen and make themselves some food.

Thirty extra minutes later the toddlers begin to stir. John opens his eyes and takes in the unfamiliar surroundings. He begins to panic and effectively wakes Sherlock from his drugged sleep. The taller toddler rubs his eyes and looks around trying to work out what has happened. Seconds later he gives up and pulls John into a hug trying to calm him in the strange room. He tunes out the sounds of John's now muffled cries and tries to place where they are in London. He tries to access his mental map. He also tries to find the voice that had helped him find Mycroft after the incident at the park. _Help me. _He thinks desperately, _please help me help me to help John. Please. _Sherlock screws his eyes up and tries to remember what happened. Someone pushed-

'Snatch kidnap.' Sherlock's eyes fly open. He scans the room a soft chuckle reverberates around his head. 'You asked for my help.' _What do I do? _'Keep holding him, I think.' Sherlock frowns at the unsure tone. 'Gregory, strokes his back holding gently but firmly.' Sherlock tightens his hold on the distraught toddler's torso. Unconsciously he rocks side to side as he holds his best friend. 'Rocking, Rocking is good.' Sherlock smiles into John's hair.

'Shock?' John's voice is hoarse from his crying.

'Don.' Sherlock whispers back.

'I'm scared.'

'Me too.'

'Where are we?' John snuggles further into Sherlock's arms. _Where are we?_ Sherlock pleads to his elder self. The voice is silent 'Shock?'

'I don't know.' Sherlock whispers, tears forming in his eyes.

'Want Stwade.'

'Want Stwade too.' A key turns in the door. Both toddlers turn to watch, as the door swings open on silent hinges. They swallow at the silhouette standing perfectly framed in the doorway.


	29. Chapter 28, Help Me?

**Chapter 28**

**Help Me?**

Tony and Thomas glance towards the exterior door as an unfamiliar knock sounds from the outside. 'I'm not going to answer it.' Tony mutters staring at the door. Thomas silently moves across the room and boots up the outside security feed to the camera covering the door. The knock sounds again as they wait for the picture to show up on screen. They glance at each other then at the door behind which the toddlers are situated. 'They're starting to move.'

'They should still be out.' Thomas hisses.

'Maybe we miscalculated the dosage. We should check to see if they're okay.' Tony starts towards the door to the toddler when a third knock sounds. He freezes.

'Who could it be?' Thomas hisses

'Who else knows what this location is used for?'

'Moriarty, Althelney, us, Sam and George, Moriarty's people.'

'Not all of them.' Tony counters.

'What do we do?' The screen flickers into life and the face belonging to Jim Moriarty is framed staring up at the camera. 'Oh shit. It's Moriarty.'

'What?' Thomas points at the screen. 'Shit. Do we let him in?' several loud bangs rattle the door.

'Do you want to die?' Tony scampers over to the door and opens it allowing Jim Moriarty to enter the building.

'Just a building check.' Jim singsongs, as he passes over the threshold. 'Should you have let me in like that?' Tony and Thomas glance nervously at each other. Jim smirks his trademark smirk. 'Don't mind if I look around do you.' He pauses 'No, I didn't think you did.' Jim wanders into the kitchen. 'Oh don't mind if I do.' He serves himself from the pot and pans bubbling on the hobs.

'Please.' Tony gestures further into the building. Jim glances at the door to the toddlers' room.

'What's behind there?'

'Storage.' Tony states confidently.

'Yes, storage just a cupboard.' Thomas adds on. Tony glares at him. With his back to the guards he smiles.

'Bingo.' He mouths silently. 'Found you Shocky.' He turns and faces them. 'Did you hear about the kidnapping at London Zoo?'

'Erm, yeah I did.' Tony says

'What happened?' Thomas asks.

'Two toddlers were snatched. Their stepmother had been nudged in a barely healed injury.' Jim raises his voice slightly. 'I've met her, nice woman.' Jim wanders away leaving the other two speechless.

'Mr Moriarty, may I ask why are you here?' Jim's face becomes reptilian and cold.

'I told you, checking over the building.' Jim stops close to Thomas. 'I don't like repeating myself. You are nothing but a hired thug, I will disappear you if you don't shut up.'

'Tom, shut it.' Tony intervenes. 'We're sorry, Mr Moriarty, we were told that we weren't allowed to open the door apart from the others who will relieve us. We weren't told to expect you.' Jim relaxes minutely. 'We didn't mean to insult you.' Jim smiles and steps back.

'Toodle pip.' Jim waits as neither Thomas nor Tony move. 'Kitchen, go.' He snaps. They jump to obey and they disappear into the kitchen leaving him in the entrance area. He smiles and shakes his head. He wanders around the building for a few minutes glancing into various rooms and cupboards. He makes a beeline to the door to the toddlers' room. Tony leaps out of the kitchen and blocks his way, 'Just storage?'

'I'm sorry Mr Moriarty, I can't let you go in here.'

'Why not?' Tony doesn't answer. 'Well?' He flinches at the icy tone of Jim's voice.

'It's not worth my job.'

'I'll make it worth your job.' The sickly sweet tone makes Tony even more nervous but determined to stay in the way of Jim. A rhythm is banged out on the door. Thomas pokes his head out of the kitchen. Tony nods to say answer it. Thomas slips over to the door and bangs out the answering knocks. They swap the passwords and Thomas opens the door to admit Sam and George. She stares at the back of Jim Moriarty.

'Mr Moriarty, sir.'

'What does Althelney say?' He asks her without turning round.

'He doesn't know you're here. Yet.'

'What does Althelney say?'

'He wants to stop a cop from investigating the network.'

'So kidnapping is the right way to go about it.'

'The boss thinks so. We just do what we're told.' Jim spins on his heels to face her.

'How is Anthony?' she freezes.

'Tony let him in.' Tony reluctantly steps to one side and opens the door. Jim turns back and steps forward framing himself in the woodwork. The four kidnappers stay back too scared to leave him with the kids but too scared to stay with the consulting criminal.

The toddlers cringe as Jim steps further into the room. He closes the door behind him removing the kidnappers from view. He walks over to the corner where the toddlers had gravitated to and crouches in front of them. 'Well, well, well, what do we have here?' They stare at him but don't reply. 'Half of London are looking for you two. Well I say half, I mean just a small department of the police force, a small bad of international agents and Mycroft and a few other people.'

'Why are you here?' Sherlock demands.

'Well, I thought finding you might get a certain government official off my back, but that doesn't seem likely.' Jim suddenly stops speaking, stands and looks down at the two of them. Was it his imagination or have they grown since the morning? 'Stand up Shock.' Sherlock detangles himself from John and rises to his feet reluctantly. As he does so his clothes begin to feel too tight. Sherlock looks down at his legs.

'We've grown.' John scrambles up and looks down at himself.

'You need new clothes.' Jim declares.

'Obviously.' Sherlock drawls.

'Are old are you?' John eyes a cupboard on the other side of the room and walks over. He stands against it and measures himself.

'Eight.' He declares.'

'You were three this morning. What have they given you?'

'A box of juice each.' Sherlock says.

'Nothing else?' Jim looks into Sherlock's eyes trying to see anything. He grabs the boy's face and twists it towards the only high window.

'Hey.' Sherlock protests

'You've been sedated.' Jim states. John looks on from the other side of the room.

'What are you going to do?' John asks cautiously.

'Blackmail Althelney into letting you run off. Maybe. But first, get you two some confortable clothes.'

'Food and drink?' John's question is hopeful. Sherlock pouts.

'Don't need food no more.'

'Any more Shock.'

'Sherlock. You need to eat.' John almost sounds like his proper self. Jim looks over his shoulder at the young John and smirks.

'Well I'd best be going. Your gifts will be here soon.' Jim leaves the room making sure the door is shut and locked behind him. John and Sherlock look at each other.

'Tumbler lock.' Sherlock whispers. 'Easy Peasy.'

'We can't go. Not yet.' John whispers back. 'We wait until we get better clothes.' Sherlock nods.

_**A/N:- Yes I know clothes for a three year old would be way to small for an eight year old boy, but I'm making the clothes be super amazing and making the clothes grow as they grow but not as much obviously.**_


	30. Chapter 29, Change Jim?

**Chapter 29**

**Change Jim?**

Jim wanders around the high-end shops on Oxford Street looking for the right sort of clothes for the now eight year old Sherlock. He sorts through the racks of smart shirts for eight year olds. 'They're all too small.' A voice speaks behind him. Jim slowly turns around.

'Mycroft, what an unpleasant surprise.' Mycroft picks a shirt of the rack in front of Jim.

'I suppose he would wear this. But then he's three. Unless there's something you want to tell me.'

'Why would there be?'

'Our research shows you have no children. Therefore no reason for you have no reason to be looking for children's clothes.'

'I have brothers.'

'Both unmarried and childless.'

'Godchildren.' Mycroft gives him a look 'It was worth a try, wasn't it?'

'Why are you here?'

'I've found them.'

'Where are they?'

'Safe.'

'But where?'

'Where I said they would be.'

'Bermondsey?' Jim rolls his eyes as he goes back to the shirt rack.

'That's what I said isn't it?'

'Where in Bermondsey?'

'Do you really think I'm going to say? It's not part of the game.'

'This isn't a game James.'

'Everything's a game. You just need to know where to look.'

'James.'

'Bermondsey Industrial Estate. Don't expect me to say where.'

'I can have you followed.'

'Really?' Jim scoffs. 'You know I won't get you there.' Mycroft sighs heavily. He puts a hand on Jim's shoulder and guides him to the racks of shirt the next size up.

'If you're buying clothes for my brother and he just happens to be eight. This is the size you want.'

'How do you know he's eight?' Mycroft lifts an eyebrow.

'You are seriously asking that?' he sighs. 'You were looking at clothes for an eight year old. The only reason you would be was if you had seen the boys and they had put on a growth spurt. Happy?'

'Bored.'

'Just make sure you shop for John's standard style of clothes. We, all, need him to be relaxed.'

'They look ridiculous.'

'Actually, I'm beginning to understand why he dresses the way he does.'

'Go on.'

'Work it out yourself Mr Moriarty. Make sure they are not harmed in any way, or I will hold you personally responsible.'

'I didn't take them.'

'Nor have you set them loose.' Mycroft walks further into the shop leaving Jim rather stunned by the racks of shirts.

'Mr Holmes?' Mycroft stops in his tracks, pauses and turns back to face Jim. 'Don't you want to know how they aged so suddenly?'

'Obviously they were sedated.'

'But with what?'

'Go on.' Jim smiles.

'Why would I want to tell you?'

'You evidently want to tell me, but won't. So I won't push you.'

'Aww, Mycroft doesn't want to play.'

'Or rather I decline to demean myself in that way. Although I would request one thing from you.'

'And what would that be?'

'To tell them that…' He pauses. 'Tell them that we will be there as soon as we can. As soon as it is safe enough for them.'

'Anything else?'

'Why are you helping us Jim?'

'The way you and Dom and Greg take care of Sherlock and John. I never had anything like that. Maybe I want to see what those feelings are like.'

'If you say so, Jim. This shopping trip is on my account. But only this shopping trip.' Mycroft strides out of the shop and refuses to look back at the criminal mastermind. Jim chooses a selection of suits and shirts of the young Sherlock. He outs it all on Mycroft's tab in the shop and leaves.

Jim walks along the street on which the Lestrade's live. He pauses a couple of houses down from Greg's house. He starts walking again and strides confidently up the drive, noticing but not acknowledging Greg's presence in the play/front room window. As Jim approaches the door Greg's profile vanishes and reappears as he opens the door. He blocks the doorway to stop Jim from entering. 'What do you want Jim?'

'You look like crap.'

'Thank you, the question still stands.'

'I spoke with Mycroft earlier.'

'So?'

'I know where the boys are. Don't expect them to be the same when you get them back.'

'What is that supposed to mean?'

'They aren't three anymore.' Greg relaxes minutely.

'How old are they?'

'Eight.'

'What happened?'

'Did you wonder why you couldn't hear them crying when they were snatched?'

'What is this? Twenty questions?'

'Tetchy, tetchy. You need to relax, Detective Inspector.'

'Jim, why weren't they crying? And what happened to make them age?'

'They were given a drugged juice box. They slept through the getaway. They won't remember a thing from the actual kidnap.'

'The sedative reacted with the chemical to make them mature five years.' Greg states.

'Pretty much.'

'Why are you here?'

'I didn't know whether Mycroft had told you.'

'Not yet.'

'I also thought you might want to give them a message.'

'Stay there.' Greg closes the door and Jim leans against the jamb. Minutes later, Greg reopens the door carrying a bag.

'You do know I could have just picked the lock.'

'And you would have been shot dead.' Greg turns to one side and reveals Donovan standing at the kitchen door, gun in hand.

'Very clever, I wouldn't have expected that from you.'

'I guess I'm like my elder son. Underestimated by geniuses.' Jim gives him a rare genuine smile.

'Do you have a message for the boys?'

'In the bag.' Jim is uncharacteristically confused.

'The message is in the bag?'

'Just tell them in the bag. The message is "In the bag".' Greg hands the bag over and shuts it in Jim's face. Jim can't be sure that Donovan has been stood down from her post so he fights the temptation to pick the locks. He shoulders the bag and turns to walk away down the drive to the street. He looks back over his shoulder and sends a manic grin to the window where Greg had retaken his former position.


	31. Chapter 30, Messenger Moriarty

**Chapter 30**

**Messenger Moriarty**

Jim has his car drive him to a nearby street to the building where the children are being held. He climbs out and takes out the suit carriers and the bag Greg had given him. 'So demeaning.' He mutters to himself. He glances at the rear view mirror and sees the driver's mouth twitching. 'Right.' He snaps. 'You've just offered yourself to be carrier.'

'Yes sir.' The driver promptly answers climbing out of the car. He walks around the front and takes all the bags off Jim.

'Follow.' Jim's face has his customary scowl plastered across it. Jim strides down the street making straight towards his warehouse. The driver follows careful to keep three or four steps behind the consulting criminal.

Jim raps sharply and loudly on the door hidden from the street. It opens quickly and he steps in followed by his chauffeur. 'What are they?' George asks nodding towards the suit carriers and bag carried by Jim's employee.

'What do they look like?' Jim asks him with a sharp tone.

'Clothes carriers.'

'Wow.' Jim says sarcastically. 'You do know what they are. Open the door.' George opens his mouth to argue with the command.

'George, don't argue do it.' Sam says from the door to the kitchen. George fishes the key from his pocket and unlocks the door to the children's room. 'Mr Moriarty, sir, we need to look through the bags before you take them in.' Jim schools his features into a pleasant and earnest expression.

'My dear lady, why would I give them the key to their escape? Their incarceration benefits me as much as you.' Sam smiles thinly and retreats back into the kitchen. Jim glares the only human obstacle between him and the children. George quickly steps out of the way and joins Sam in the kitchen. Jim opens the door and his driver steps forward to follow him. 'Stay.' Jim growls menacingly. The chauffeur freezes allowing Jim to step into the room alone.

John and Sherlock look up from a drawn out tic-tac-toe board in the dust on the floor as Jim walks in. 'Oh look, the consulting criminal returns to gloat again.'

'Sherlock.' John warns. 'Be nice.'

'Why? He's hasn't been nice to us.'

'He could have used this situation to his advantage.' John fills in a square on the 5 by 5 board.

'He has.'

'How?' Sherlock pouts and John grins knowing he's bested the consulting detective, this time. Sherlock ignores John's grin and Jim's amused smile choosing to make his move

'Your move, John. What do you want Jim?'

'I thought you would like some clothes that actually fit.' Jim casts his eyes over the ridiculously oversized clothes with a sneer.

'At least these aren't the far too small ones and are actually comforting.' John retorts.

'Parker. Clothes bags only. Leave at the door.' the sounds of bags being set on the floor just outside the door float though the cracks between the door and it's supports. Jim rises from his squatting position and retrieves the suit carriers. He unzips the first one revealing three complete sets of suits in Sherlock's current size. He repeats his actions and three sets of jean and jumper combinations are brought to light. The eight year olds leap on their respective clothes and tear off the borrowed clothing. Jim retreats to give them a little bit of privacy as they change. As he waits outside the door he listens to the excited chatter as the boys change, smirking at their inane theories. His expression clears as he realises that the chatter is completely for his benefit, he unintentionally snarls making the driver flinch. 'What?'

'Nothing, sir.'

'Good.'

'Jimmy boy.' Sherlock's taunting voice comes through the gap at the edge of the door.

'Bag.' The driver hands over the bag immediately and Jim returns to the room and raises his eyebrows at the children. 'Aren't you bored playing that?'

'Of course he is.' John replies. 'But he can't resist a challenge.'

'Go on.'

'I have to play as if I want to win but I have to lose.' Jim snorts with laughter.

'Seriously.' Two identical scowls turn and face him effectively quieting him.

'Any messages.'

'Why would there be a message?' Sherlock gives him a look.

'Please don't insult my intelligence.'

'One from Mycroft, they'll be here as soon as they can and as soon as it is safe enough for you.' Sherlock snorts.

'It won't ever be completely safe. Mycroft's being a prat, again.'

'And from Greg?' John asks before Sherlock can launch into a spiel about how annoying the government official is.

'In the bag.' John looks surprised before his eyes land on the strap from a bag over his shoulder. 'His exact words.' Jim slips the bag down and stands. 'Messages delivered. I'll be off. Be seeing you soon Shirley.'

'No you won't.' Sherlock replies tersely. 'And don't call me Shirley.'

'Sorry Shocky.' The eight-year-old growls and Jim leaves laughing. The two youngsters listen as the door is locked and Jim's footsteps retreat to the exterior door with another set. After the outside door has been opened and shut, John and Sherlock abandon their game and look through the bag.

'Oh he is brilliant.' Sherlock exclaims quietly, pulling out one of the teddy bears. They see the unpicked stitching down the bear's side. Sherlock carefully teases the edges of the fabric and sticks his hand in. he withdraws it clutching a roll of different coloured fabric.

'He knows us too well.' John grins.

'Let's see what else he's given us.' Together they unpack the bag and reveal various types of equipment that Sherlock would need to break out of a hostage situation. At the bottom of the bag John spots a sheet of white paper. John reads it out quietly.

'Use these wisely. Don't make any rash decisions. Sherlock listen to John-'

'It doesn't say that.' Sherlock snatches the paper from John's hands. 'No fair.'

'Life isn't.' John retorts filching it back. 'Head to St Bart's if you manage to escape.'

'Manage to escape? Of course we'll escape.'

'We need to be careful. Lull them into a false sense of security.'

'They're already bemused about our sudden growth.'

'So we go soon.' Sherlock nods.

'As soon as possible. Let's see what else Lestrade had given us.' He unpacks a couple of games, two books, two blankets and the other bear also with secret stitching. 'Mine had my lock picks. Yours has.'

'Phones.' The two of them grin at each other.


	32. Chapter 31, Escape Artists

**Chapter 31**

**Escape Artists**

Sherlock presses his ear to the door of their room. At first he can only hear muffled noises. He glances around the room and spots the tumblers they had been given with their previous meal. He downs the water in the glass and presses it against the door. All the noises on the other side are amplified and he can distinguish the different ones. He can hear their two guards. 'When are we being relieved?' A man asks.

'For the fifth time, in an hour. Stop asking.' A female voice replies.

'But Sam.'

'Shut up, the kids are asleep so don't even think about complaining.'

'Why?'

'For all we know they could be light sleepers and could wake at the sound of your moans.'

'I don't moan.'

'Shut up and have a nap.' Sherlock glances back into the room. He makes eye contact with John.

'How long?' the blonde boy asks.

'Two hours, at the most. Get some sleep. I'll keep watch.'

'Wake me in an hour.' Sherlock nods. 'I mean it Lock. I need you rested for you to pick the lock quickly.' The boy with raven curls smiles and nods.

'I will. Go to sleep.' John settles down on his bed and promptly falls asleep. Sherlock settles him self at the head of his bed and assumes his position for entering his mind palace.

'Interesting.' _What is?_ 'The speed of growth.' _This body is eight_. 'Much better than the three-year-old body. That was tedious.' _Sedation then five years worth of growth in? _'Five hours, thirty five minutes and twenty seconds exactly after you finished consuming the juice.' _So?_ 'Please, you are me. You do know. Just think.' _We aged a year every one hour, seven minutes and four seconds. _'Then?' _Then it stopped. We're back to aging normally. Why? _'The door was opened while you and he were asleep, meaning exterior light did not hit your retinas. But it was shut again before you woke. However the door was opened again after you came to in a dark room. Therefore the exterior light halted your development. Theory in progress.' _It will do for now. _'Pack the things you have here. Ten minutes until John is to be roused.' Sherlock shakes his head wondering at the voice, he knows that it is the fully-grown Sherlock prompting him in the right direction, clarifying the confused mind of his eight-year-old self. He busies himself packing the bag Greg had sent with the things they had. As well as a second that had been hidden away at the bottom of the first under the paper. He glances at the door and scurries over pressing the tumbler to the door. He listens to the changeover for a couple of seconds before scooting back to the slightly too small beds and lies down after hiding the bags. He listens to the door opening and to the breathing of Tony as he looks in. he lies as still as he can until the door closes and the key turns in the lock. He relaxes and carefully sits up. He sees the strip of light under the door go out and he slips off the bed and gently shakes John awake. John's eyes snaps open

'Still got your army reactions then?' Sherlock whispers knowing that the reference would relax the bond boy. 'Your turn for watch.' John rubs his eyes and sits up.

'How long?'

'Your choice, thirty minutes or an hour. Bags are between the bed.' Sherlock climbs back into his bed and lies down.

'Go to sleep.' John tells him and he shuts his eyes. The next thing he is aware of his John shaking him awake and hissing that it's time. 'Sherlock. It's time to go.' Sherlock shakes himself awake and reaches for one of the bags. His fist closes around empty air. 'Sherlock they're here.' Sherlock snaps his head around the in direction of John's voice.

'I need my lock picks.' The dark haired boy whispers as he scrambles over to the door. John wordlessly hands them across. Sherlock takes them and spots the tumbler in John's other hand.

'Lookout.' The blond boy hisses in answer to the unasked question. Sherlock nods and settles down to pick the lock as quietly as he can. After a matter of seconds the door clicks open and Sherlock slips through. John passes the bags through one at a time before slipping through himself. They pull the door shut and Sherlock locks the door behind them. 'Pathetic.' Sherlock glances at his best friend.

'What is?'

'You mean who. Our guards. They're nowhere near us.'

'They'll be asleep.'

'You would expect to have one near the door. Or the front door.'

'Ordinary people, what do you except?' John rolls his eyes as they scurry across the entrance area to the front door. Sherlock runs his gaze over the only obstacle between them and freedom. 'We won't need the picks.'

'Why?'

'Virtually no security.' John scans the door he grabs Sherlock's arm before the other boy can open the door.

'What's that?' he point to a small wire.

'Tricky.' Sherlock replies. The taller boy's nimble fingers quickly unwind the wire and holds the door open to reveal a crack just wide enough for them both to slip through. Sherlock moves out of the way for John to slip through first and for him to pass out the bags one handed. Sherlock gives the entranceway one last glance around to make sure that there were no signs of the boy's departure. Satisfied he slips through tugging on one end of the wire to tighten it and close the door. John silently hands him the tumbler and Sherlock listens for any sign of movement from the guards. 'I think we've got away with it.'

'So far.' John whispers back, his eyes darting all over the alley. 'Come on.' John leads the way to the street. Sherlock relieves John of one of the bags and slips it over his shoulder. John does that same with the one he's left with. They walk quickly and quietly down the street. John pauses by a locked car. He moves to the driver's door and peers into the window.

'John.' Sherlock hisses panicking

'What?' John stands on tiptoes to look over the car.

'What are you doing?'

'Checking the time on our phones. Making sure they're right.' John moves to the front of the car and they walk up the street. 'Any idea where we are?'

'Not yet.'

'So we keep moving?'

'Yeah. And stay off the main streets. What time is it?'

'Nearly eleven.' John looks up at the sky and spots a few of the stars. 'We head north and see if we hit the river right?'

'Why not.' They start running north, following the road.

They stop running as they approach a busy road. 'What do we do?' John whispers at they watch the street. 'Do we get a cab?'

'We don't have any money' Sherlock murmurs back. 'We stay on foot. Come on.' They start forward toward the pedestrian crossing over the main road. John glances up and down their side of the street.

'Worked out where we are yet?'

'Bermondsey. Just south of the river. This is Jamaica road.' The traffic lights for the cars turn red allowing Sherlock and John to cross the road. Half way over john glances over his shoulder.

'Sherlock, run.' Sherlock wisely doesn't ask why and just starts running forwards, John sticks close on his heels.

'Police officer.' Sherlock breathes. John pushes Sherlock into a doorway and they hunker down. Unfortunately for the boys the officer had spotted them and starts making his way over to them. John makes eye contact with him and shakes his head motioning for the guy to ignore him. Sherlock risks a peek to see why John said to run. 'John.' John looks and swallows.

'That's him.'

'Who?'

'The guy who pointed at us. He was also at the zoo, yesterday.'

'He hasn't seen where we are.'

'Stay or go?'

'Stay for now.' Sherlock whispers. 'And hope the officer stops watching us.'

'Hang on.' John rummages through his bag.

'What are you doing?'

'Greg's phones.' John rolls his eyes at Sherlock confusion. 'He's a cop.'

'They'll be wired into the radio network.' Sherlock catches up.

'What's his number?' Sherlock squints and looks across the street at the officer.

'2431.' John dials it into the phone and presses call. The officer answers the cackle from his radio.

'Officer 2431.' John switches it onto loudspeaker.

'Hello. We're across the street from you, and wards of Detective Inspector Lestrade of Scotland Yard. We're participating in a challenge with our guardian and our brother, Mycroft Holmes. The two men down the street are on their side and we need to evade them.'

'Isn't that cheating?'

'No, distraction is allowed, we can use any officer or government official in our vicinity.' Sherlock intercedes.

'What does this exercise entail?'

'Our guardian wants to be sure that we can always find our way home or to any rendezvous point in the city.' John replies.

'What would you like me to do?'

'Just hold them up for a few minutes.' John and Sherlock watch the face of officer with mounting apprehension.

'Okay. Be careful.' Both the eight year old breathe a sigh of relief.

'Thank you, we will be.'

'Before you go, may I ask where the RV point is?'

'St Bart's hospital.' John says before hanging up. They watch as the officer crosses the street they are on and approach the kidnappers. John watches still hiding in their doorway. 'Go in three, two, one. Now.' The children slip put of the doorway and sprint up the street. At a corner Sherlock looks back to see what is happening.

'It's working.'

'Good.' John pants still running. Sherlock grabs his elbow.

'We're already conspicuous. We don't need to add to it.'

'Where to now?'

'We need to circle back onto Jamaica Road and find a bridge.' Sherlock glances about. 'Down here?'

'Now?'

'The earlier the better.'

'They'll see us, we're too close.'

'A risk we have to take. We have to hope they'll go further down than we did.' Sherlock strides off and after a second's hesitation John follows. As they emerge back onto Jamaica Road John looks down and sees the officer still talking to the kidnappers. The boys speed walk in the opposite direction. The officer spots them but his professionalism takes over.

'Look officer, thanks you for your concern but we are fine. We do need to get on out way.'

'Of course.' The kidnappers head up the street where the officer had spoken to the children. He, himself, walks down Jamaica road in the direction John and Sherlock had taken.

John takes out one of the phones and checks the time. 'How long?' Sherlock asks not looking round.

'We've been out about an hour.'

'Tired?'

'Yeah, I am.' A black cab pulls up near them at an intersection. The boys eye the driver wearily.

'What are your names?'

'Raymond and Jake.' John answers indicating Sherlock first then him.

'Really? Only you guys remind me of a couple of toddlers I drove around a few days back. With Mrs Hudson and DI Greg Lestrade.' Sherlock and John glance at each other. The cabbie smiles at them. 'Get in boys. Mrs Hudson let slip that something had happened to make you kids with adult minds.'

'Sherlock Holmes and John Watson.' Sherlock amends John's statement. 'And St Bart's please.'

'We have no money.' John is still dubious.

'Just tell me who you're running from and why.' Sherlock opens the rear door and climbs in. John still hesitates

'Come on John.' John sighs and climbs in. 'We were kidnapped. We managed to escape after we matured five years in a matter of hours. We are running from the kidnappers.'

'Smart kids.'

'Thanks.' John mumbles. He shakes his head to keep himself awake.

'Go to sleep, I'll wake you when we arrive.'

'I'd rather stay awake thanks.' John and Sherlock watch the dark streets of London rush past the cab.

'Could you stop here please?' Sherlock asks as the cab rounds the roundabout on London Wall and Aldersgate St. The cabbie glances in the rear view mirror. 'It will be quicker to walk.' The cab slows and just as it pulls to a stop John has to door open and is getting out.

'No charge.'

'Thanks.' Sherlock says climbing out. He shuts the door and the two of them take off into the night.

Twenty minutes of walking and running later John and Sherlock find themselves outside a minor entrance to Saint Bartholomew's Hospital in West Smithfield. They glance at each other and grin. 'On the home leg John.'

'Where will we wait?'

'The morgue. It's the first place Lestrade will look.' The two boys starts forward and push open the door entering the hospital. They rapidly make their way down to the morgue area and ensconce themselves in Molly's office to settle down for the night.


	33. Chapter 32, Reunited Again

**Chapter 32**

**Reunited Again**

Greg walks through the homicide department towards his office averting his eyes from the incident board. The incident board covered with stills off the CCTV cameras from London Zoo. The incident board showing pictures of his two sons at various stages during their childhoods. Sally watches him covertly from her desk with a small sad smile on her face. 'They've grown haven't they?' a voice asks right behind her making her jump. She turns putting her hand on her thumping heart.

'Anderson, don't do that.'

'Do what?'

'Startle me.'

'Well?'

'Yes, they've grown.' She snaps turning back to the board, and tries to avoid looking at the pictures. But her eyes are drawn to one particular photo of Sherlock and Mycroft crouching on opposite sides of a puddle.

'Thought you might like a coffee.'

'Thanks.' She says absentmindedly taking it and drinking a sip.

'Why do you care?' Sally turns, eyebrows raised. 'I mean it's the freak and his pet.'

'Have you ever considered that something might have happened during Sherlock's childhood to make him the way he is normally?'

'No.'

'Neither had I. But I know now. And he's no longer a freak to me.'

'Have you ever asked yourself about why John feels to so protective over Sherlock?'

'No.'

'It's because John has had an extremely troubled childhood. And he understands the loneliness Sherlock feels every time someone judges him with out getting to know him. John saw the hurt and pain, the brilliance and anguish. What we saw was wrong. I'll admit that. Will you?' Anderson glares at Sally. He opens his mouth to speak but the doors to the homicide department swing open and Sally cuts him off 'Can I help you?'

'DI Lestrade?' the newcomer asks

'This way.' she gestures to Greg's office. 'Long night?'

'Yeah, and a strange one.' Sally smiles and knock on the door to Greg's office.

'Enter.' Sally opens the door

'Beat officer to see you sir.'

'Bring him in.' Sally steps in followed by uniformed officer who happens to be out of uniform. 'How can I help?' Greg asks while looking through paperwork

'On my beat last night I came across two boys, about eight.' Greg freezes and rolls his eyes to look up at the beat cop.

'Go on.'

'They said they were on an exercise set by you and I wanted to see of they'd got back alright.'

'What sort of exercise?' Sally asks.

'They said it was to make sure they could home easily from anywhere in the city. Home or another RV point.'

'What time was this?'

'Bout eleven. Could have been half past.'

'Anything else?'

'They asked me to distract two men. The kids said the men were government officials.' Greg snorts. 'Sir?'

'Did the boys give their names?'

'No, just that you were their guardian and they had a brother. Mycroo or something'

'Mycroo? Could have it been Mycroft Holmes?'

'Yes.' Sally and Greg both visibly relax.

'I'm afraid you've been slightly played.' Amusement is evident in Sally's tone.

'Donovan.' Greg warns. 'Those boys had been kidnapped the previous day, the day before yesterday. Both of them are very smart on their own, but they're unstoppable together. Between the pair of them they seem to have escaped their captors.'

'So why did they say?'

'Two eight year olds wandering the streets at midnight? The only thing that would make you back down was if they said I knew exactly where they were and what they were doing.'

'Where did they say they were heading?'

'St Bart's.'

'Come with us.' Greg grabs his coat and moves swiftly from his char to the door. Sally is right on his heels. The officer hesitates but follows.

Greg pulls up a police car and the three of them climb out. Sally looks up at the white façade. 'Where will they be?' The beat cop wonders copying her

'It is Sherlock we're talking about.' Sally groans.

'Of course they'll be there.'

'Where?'

'The morgue.'

'Why would boys go to the morgue?' He involuntary shivers. 'Too many dead bodies.'

'That's why he'll be there. No doubt examining one.' Sally mutters dryly.

Molly sits in her office keeping an ear on the conversation between the eight year old Sherlock and John. She smiles as their happy chatter floats through from the body storage. John appears from the mortuary. 'May Sherlock have a look at a body? And have you called Uncle Greg?'

'He may look but not touch.' Molly replies. 'And yes, I have rung Greg but I couldn't get through.'

'Ring his mobile.'

'And I got Mary.'

'Oh.' John disappears again and Molly can hear the two happily chatting. She quickly finishes her paperwork and goes to chaperone the boys.

'Which one do you look at?' Sherlock points at a recent arrival.

'That one.'

'Lock.' John warns.

'Please.' Sherlock adds. Molly walks over and pulls back the sheet revealing the body of a middle-aged woman.

'No.' John snatches the sheet from Molly and covers her face back up.

'John.' Sherlock whines and pulls the sheet from her face.

'Sherlock, not this one.' Molly intercedes replacing the sheet and nudging Sherlock towards a different body.

'Why?' John stays near the body. He has pulled the sheet back and is staring at her face. Molly quickly checks the paperwork with the body.

'Ah. Are you okay John?' John nods but doesn't stop looking at her.

'Molly? Why?'

'Deduce it Sherlock.' John says harshly. Molly pulls the sheet back on a young male.

'Look over this one and leave John be for a minute or so.' Molly makes sure the young detective is absorbed in the body before she crosses room and stands next to John. She gently lays a hand on his shoulder. 'I'm sorry John.' The young boy leans into the pathologist.

'Oh.' Sherlock appears on the other side of the slab. 'She's Hope.' John reaches out and covers Hope Watson's face up. 'Can I look? I want to find our who did this to her.'

'I already know.' Greg's voice comes in from the doorway. John runs into his arms and buries his face Greg's chest. 'I'm sorry John, you shouldn't have found out this way. I didn't want to tell you when you were three.' John nods into his father's chest.

'Father did it, didn't he?' he asks quietly when he withdraws. Greg kneels down to be on eyelevel with John and reveals Sally and the officer who had helped the boys during the night.

'John listen to me, Henry Watson is not your biological father. He is in custody and cannot hurt you in any way. Do you understand?' Greg peers into the blonde boy's eyes. John swallows and nods.

'Whose custody?'

'Mycroft's.' Greg replies simply. 'How are you two?' John shrugs.

'Fine.' Sherlock replies. 'Do we have to go now?'

'So you don't you want to wind up Anderson or see Mary then?' John grins at Sherlock's torn expression.

'Well…'


	34. Chapter 33, Anderson's Retribution

_**A/N:- This for those who want to see Anderson punished for his actions against the toddlers.**_

**Chapter 33**

**Anderson's Retribution**

Greg pulls the patrol car that he, Sally and the beat officer had taken to look for Sherlock and John, into the car park attached to Scotland Yard. Sally hops out of the front passenger door and opens the door behind for Sherlock to climb out. John scrambles across the backseat and also climbs out of the same door. 'Why couldn't we have stopped at the shops, we need some stuff.' Sherlock whines.

'Because we need to check his desk over first.' John intercedes.

'But I already know it.' Greg heaves an exasperated sigh.

'Sherlock. If you don't shut up now, you will not be doing anything but sitting in a chair facing the wall and being completely silent.' Sherlock stops whinging but glares at the Detective Inspector.

'Just humour him Sherlock.' Sally warns him. John smiles and slips his hand into Sally's

'Upstairs?'

'Upstairs.' Sherlock watches the two of them walk towards the back entrance of the yard. 'Are you planning then?' He hears Sally ask.

'Kinda.' John answers.

'Uncle Greg?'

'Yes Sherlock?' he answers wearily.

'Thank you for the stuff you sent.' Greg straightens and looks over the car roof at the boy. He narrows his eyes.

'What are you up to?' Sherlock shuffles.

'Nothing. I wasn't sure I could have gotten us out of there without my picks. So thank you.' Greg smiles and locks the car.

'I'm not used to you being polite.'

'Don't expect it to last. It goes as I grow older.'

'Cheeky but thanks for the warning.' Greg walks around the car and claps him on his back. 'Come on in. And Sherlock?' Sherlock looks up at him. 'Try to tone down the whining.'

'I'll try, but I can't promise anything.'

'I'll take what I can.' Greg and Sherlock walk through the entrance to the yard.

Sherlock joins John in looking at Anderson's desk. 'Fake pens, vanishing ink, whoopee cushion, stink bomb-'

'No stink bombs boys.' Lestrade warns from his office.

'Why?'

'Why do you think?' Donovan asks from her desk. Sherlock makes a face and she smiles.

'A filter for the light.'

'Is all we need,' John interrupts. 'So, we need to buy fake pens, vanishing ink, whoopee cushion and light filters.' Sherlock nods. 'We also need a spanner and glue.'

'Superglue.'

'Not as strong as super glue, Sherlock.' John warns. 'Sally, can we go shopping now?'

'Yes.' Greg's voice says

'Come on, you two.' Sally says smiling and she rises from her chair.

'Boys.' John darts to the door of Greg's office. 'You might need some money.' John grins and accepts the card from Greg. Sherlock and Sally head to the main door of the department. John pauses and looks at Greg. 'What's up?' John hesitates.

'Nothing.' He forces a smile and runs after his best friend. Greg shakes his head fondly and smiles to himself. Moments later, Anderson appears at the door to his office.

'What did they want?'

'What did who want Anderson?'

'The two boys, they were staring at my desk.' Greg fights to stop a smile from emerging on his face.

'Sherlock and John have aged and now are eight. They were debating how much weight the average desk on the floor would hold.'

Sherlock spots a joke shop from the cab window. He jabs his finger at the glass of the cab. 'There.' Sally looks over and hums in agreement.

'Big one.'

'Should have everything we need.' Sally directs the cab over to the curb. The boys pile out and dash along to the nearest pedestrian crossing.

'Oi, Wait you two.' Sally shouts as she pays the driver.

'Hurry up Sally.' The reply floats back to her.

'Excited are they, your kids?'

'They're not mine.' Sally laughs. 'I'm sort of an aunt to them.'

'Have fun.'

'I'll try.' Sally walks causally down the pavement to annoy the boys. They each grab one of her hands and drag her over the crossing then drag her across the road and into the shop.

Sherlock manoeuvres himself into the exact centre of the shop floor; or as near as he can because one of the shelves racks is in the way. Sally and John join him. 'Right what is it you need?' Sally asks carrying a basket.

'Whoopee cushion.' John dashes off in one direction.

'Vanishing ink.' Sherlock goes off in another. They get back carrying the respective items and drop into the basket.

'Fake pens.' John goes haring off again.

'Light filters.' So does Sherlock. Sally tries to keep the grin from her face but fails.

'What are they up to?' The shopkeeper asks joining her.

'Playing a couple of pranks on a… well I wouldn't say enemy.'

'What would you say?'

'They have a mutual dislike of each other.'

'So enemies then.'

'I suppose so.' John returns bearing the false stationary. Sherlock lags behind him.

'I got some fake paper as well.

'What's up?' the shopkeeper asks Sherlock.

'Do you have of the light filters that are clear but block out all light? I can't find any.'

'That's because I keep them out back.'

'Please can you can get two for us please?'

'What sizes?' John's eye widen, Sherlock thinks deeply.

'One a circle about seven inches in diameter and the other square fifteen inches diagonally. Please.'

'Computer and light?' John nods. 'Be right back.'

'Thank you.' John calls after him.

'Where next?' Sally asks heaving the basket to help wake her arms up.

'Hardware store.' John replies

'Spanner and superglue.' Sherlock adds.

'And strong glue.' John amends. Sally makes her way over to the tills.

Ninety minutes later, John and Sherlock bound up the stairs of Scotland Yard to the floor on which the Homicide department is located. They carry all the equipment that they have recently bought. John gingerly pushes one of the doors open to check on Anderson. One of the other officers notices him 'How long do you need?' he asks.

'Ten minutes.'

'He's due back in' the officer checks his watch. 'Nine minutes thirty seconds and counting.'

'Come on Sherlock.' They two hurry over to Anderson's desk and start placing all their pranks in position. Sherlock levers the cushion on Anderson's chair up and carefully places the whoopee cushion underneath. John fixes the first of the light filters to the light and Sherlock takes the second and fixes it to the computer screen.

'Seven minutes.' Sherlock grabs the spanner and goes to work on loosening the various chair fittings. Everyone stops work to watch the progress of the boys. Several of the officers keep watch on the doors to be able to warn them of Anderson's approach. John replaces all of Anderson's pens with the fake ones and the ink in the inkwell with the vanishing kind.

'Two minutes.'

'Will that be long enough?' John whispers.

'Should be.' Sherlock whispers back. They ease the lid from the tin and pour it in the foot well underneath the desk.

'He's coming.' An officer hisses. There is a scramble as the officers rush to their desks and as Sherlock and John scramble to gather up their equipment and disappear into Greg's office after fixing a piece of strong thin string to the stem of the chair.

'Just in time.' Sherlock breathes as they kneel under the window closest to Anderson's desk.

Anderson sits down at his desk and pushes himself under. He pulls a face at the sound of the whoopee cushion made but reaches to switch on his light but nothing happens. He looks under the shade and sees nothing happening as he flicks the switch. Behind him a few of the officers smirk. He reaches for his fountain pen in his pocket and dips it in the inkwell of vanishing ink. He writes the first part of a report one of the papers he brought in. As he does so, Anderson becomes aware of everyone watching him. He pauses and looks around. Everyone looks back at his or her own paperwork. Sherlock and John carefully rise to look out of the window as Anderson's back is turned. As the forensic officer turns back they duck down and try not to giggle. Greg walks onto the floor of the department through the main doors. He spots Sally sitting at her desk and she places a finger on her lips before pointing at Anderson, who is turning on his computer. Everyone hears the noise of it starting up but the screen stays blank. Anderson hits the side on the monitor and someone sniggers. Anderson attempts to spin round but can't because his feet are stuck to the floor. He leans back in his chair to trying to lift his feet from the glued floor and the back of the chair decides it wants to be on an 180o angle to the seat of the chair. He tries to push the chair back but can't get the leverage. The other officers openly giggle, smirk and laugh at the forensic officer's attempt at freeing himself. 'What glue did they use?' one of them ask

'Didn't see.' Another answers sniggering. Greg's face wears a stern expression but his eyes are dancing and those who know him best would be able to tell that he is fighting not to start to laugh. The Chief Superintendent enters and stands just behind Greg.

'What's going on?' he asks surveying the scene.

'I think Sherlock and John are getting revenge on Anderson.'

'They've aged then?'

'Yes sir, they're eight now.'

'And where are they?' right on cue the two of them appear at the door to Greg's office, Sherlock holding the end of a piece of string. Greg nods over to them not wanting to draw attention. John lifts his eyebrow at Greg and he nods.

'Now.' John whispers, Greg reads his lips. Sherlock tugs on the string and they disappear into the office after dropping the string. Anderson's chair flies out from under him and he lands heavily on his backside. The whole department erupts in laughter and break out on applause. Sherlock and John emerge from the office and take a bow to the clapping officer. They cheekily stick their tongues out at the humiliated man.

'You little…'

'Anderson.' Greg warns, all traces of amusement gone. 'Be very careful about what you say next.'

'But they-'

'Shouldn't have gone that far. But were well within their rights to do so.'

'Assaulting an officer.' Anderson protests.

'They didn't put a finger on you.' Sally points out. 'Or actually harm you.'

'And you shouldn't have hurt me.'

'Or pushed me into the lift.' The two boys stand there glaring at Anderson, arms folded and serious expressions on their faces. The seriousness evaporates as Anderson tries and fails to free his feet from under the desk. Greg walks over and carefully steps around Anderson to squat in between him and the boys. He gingerly pokes the glue puddle under the desk.

'It should be solid now.' Sherlock states

'It is.' Greg replies. 'How do we dissolve it?'

'Acetone.'

'What that?' Anderson asks.

'Oh, Anderson.' John simpers. 'I would have thought you should have known that.' Anderson growls.

'John.' Greg warns

'Nail polish remover or any alcohol based remover.' Sherlock snaps eerily similar of his adult self.

'Well get some then.'

'Err, no. We promised Uncle Greg that when we got back we would stay in his office or at least in the department.' Greg looks over his shoulder at Sherlock.

'Since when did you pay attention to things like that?'

'Today.' Sherlock grins before he and John disappear into the office again where they burst out laughing and making most of the officers on the homicide department join in. Anderson scowls. Greg rises chuckling.

'It's not funny.'

'But it is Anderson, it is.' Sally struggles to speak in between laughs.

'That was priceless.' Someone states, everyone else agrees including the Chief Superintendent.

Everyone except Anderson that is.


	35. Chapter 34, Uhoh Jim

**Chapter 34**

**Uh-oh Jim**

Jim wanders lazily along the street where the warehouse in which Sherlock and John had been taken. From the noise coming out of the open door the two regressed crime fighters have managed to escape. Jim is slightly surprised, he expected the kids to take slightly longer before their version of the Great Escape. One of the original kidnappers spots him as he saunters past. He storms up to the consulting criminal and draws himself to tower over the slightly shorter man. 'You! You let them escape.' Jim rolls his eyes.

'Pur-lease.' Jim drawls. 'My business benefits with them being in some sort of custody. Tony.' He steps back at the mention of his name. 'I did say you didn't have enough security.'

'They were kids.' Sam walks up behind Tony.

'They still are.' Jim points out. 'If I were you I would clear away everything. And. Get. Out.'

'Why?'

'I own the building, in my name. Make sure the rent is paid in full for the rest of the year.'

'But it's April.'

'Tony, don't argue.' Sam warns him. 'The money will be paid Mr Moriarty.' She looks back at the door.

'You want me to see how they did it.' Jim states simply.

'Please Mr Moriarty. If it's not too much to ask.' Jim makes a show of glancing at his watch.

'Show me.' Jim morphs into his business personality slightly throwing the kidnappers.

'This way sir.' Sam leads the way to the door of the warehouse.

Jim pushes past Sam after entering the warehouse. He looks over the door to the room the children had been kept in. 'Lock the door the way it was.' Jim demands. Sam nods at Tony to do so, he does grudgingly. Jim's eyes widen at the minimal security. 'Are you inviting them to escape?' He asks astounded. 'An eight year old could get out of that. Oh I forgot… they did.' Tony steps up to Jim and punches him in the face. Jim retaliates by punching Tony back, breaking his right arm and spraining his left wrist. Jim stamps on Tony's left knee. The consulting criminal kneels down placing his face close to Tony's 'If you start something make sure you are able to finish. Be grateful I haven't killed you.'

'Yes sir.' Tony gets out though gritted teeth.

'Good.' Jim stands and leaves Tony lying in agony on the floor.

'I would say lock me in the room, but you don't need to.' Sam, Thomas and George watch Jim as he surveys. 'Who was on guard duty?' Thomas nervously raises his hand. Jim lifts a single eyebrow

'Me and Tony.'

'Was the kitchen area abandoned at any time?' Thomas nervously nods. Jim glares at him.

'I went to the lav, leaving Tony there. When I got back Tony wasn't anywhere near the kitchen.'

'Then what?' Jim growls.

'I checked on the kids and raised the alarm.'

'Where was he?'

'He came from the back.' Jim casts a disdainful glance at the injured man.

'I was patrolling.' Tony manages to say.

'Leaving the room unguarded. Rookie mistake.' Jim sneers.

'I bet you made it.' Tony grinds his teeth

'Nope.' Jim wanders into the kitchen. 'You didn't need me to explain how they escaped. Why am I here?'

'You're the landlord.' Sam states.

'Don't be cheeky young lady.'

'Mr Althelney wants a word with you.'

'He could have just come direct.'

'Althelney doesn't do that.'

'Neither do I, normally.' Jim sits down and looks back at the three people standing in the doorway.

'What's different about this time? If you don't mind my asking.' Thomas hastily adds in response to Jim's rapidly darkening expression.

'Those two kids.' Jim starts.

'What about them?'

'They are Sherlock Holmes and John Watson.' George snorts with derision.

'Yeah, and I've been to the moon.'

'See Tony?'

'Yeah.'

'Do you want to be like him, or worse?'

'Umm, no.'

'Then shut up.' A repetitive knock sounds at the door stopping any of the kidnappers from questioning the consulting criminal further. Sam nods at Thomas to admit the newcomer. Jim rises from his seat and brushes a couple pieces of imaginary lint from his suit.

'Mr Moriarty.'

'Mr Althelney.'

'Who were those kids?'

'You're asking me?' Jim assumes an expression of mock astonishment. 'You kidnapped them, I thought you knew.'

'Mr Moriarty, I don't have time for this.'

'Neither do I.' Jim's expression morphs into his reptilian persona. 'I don't appreciate having my time wasted. You kidnapped those children but didn't do the research on who they were.'

'Neither have you.'

'I didn't need to. I may not have known of them until I bumped into one of them a couple of days ago. But I know what I need to know.'

'Who are they Mr Moriarty?'

'Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson.' Althelney narrows his eyes trying to read Jim's purposefully blank expression.

'Please explain, Mr Moriarty.' Jim feigns disinterest and examines his fingernails.

'Apparently, the duo were investigating a theft from a secret government lab but were exposed to a chemical that causes the recipient to regress into a child.' Jim straightens his hand but keep inspecting his nails. 'You wouldn't know anything about that now would you?' Althelney shifts his feet minutely. Jim's eyes snap over to him. 'You have it stolen.' Jim sighs and shakes his head. 'You have a lot to learn if you want to take over my position. Not like that's ever really going to happen.'

'What do I need to learn?'

'One, never cross both of the Holmes'. Two, never underestimate the brainpower of Sherlock Holmes or John Watson or Gregory Lestrade. Three, never ever cross me. Sherlock Holmes is mine and mine alone. Is that understood?' Jim leans into Althelney's face as he speaks his mini rant.'

'Yes, Mr Moriarty.' The submissive posture of the new ringleader of London crime satisfies the consulting criminal immensely.

'Good.' Jim relaxes. 'Get me the recipe and my rent. Leave Sherlock Holmes to me.' Jim pushes past Althelney and his subordinates.

'Where do we take it?' Sam asks.

'Where do you apply for assistance?' Sam nods. Jim steps over Tony's body on the floor making sure to catch him and inflict more pain. 'Sort him out will you? He's getting blood on my floor.'

Jim steps out in the fresh (ish) of London. He takes a deep breath and pulls out his phone. And sends off three quick texts. In matter of seconds, police sirens fill the air and Jim calmly walks down the street knowing that a rival has been dealt with, a modicum of trust and respect has been forged between him and the law upholders and finally that he will be in contact with a rare and potent chemical recipe. He smiles to himself. 'You didn't think you would get entirely away with this did you?' Someone asks behind him. Jim turns.


	36. Chapter 35, Consequences Jim

**Chapter 35**

**Consequences Jim**

Jim walks through the corridors leading to Mycroft's office following Greg. He pauses every couple of seconds to let the detective inspector get a decent distance ahead. 'Keep up Jim.' Greg says not even looking back. Jim growls and picks up his pace to position himself just behind Greg's left shoulder.

'How did you know I was dropping behind?' Jim is honestly curious.

'You, secrets and government. I don't need to be Sherlock Holmes to know it's not a very good idea to put all three together. Even Anderson would know that.'

'Yet I'm here.'

'By reluctant permission only.' Greg retorts. They stop outside the outer door of Mycroft's office. Greg knocks and waits.

'Would have thought you could have walked straight in.'

'I can, to the anteroom. But again, you're here.' Jim sneers.

'Oh, no fun.'

'It's not supposed to be.' Anthea says next to the open door. Neither of the men had noticed her approach or move the heavy oak door.

'Anthea.'

'Greg. He's in a meeting. He'll be a couple of minutes.'

'That'll be okay.'

'But it's rude.'

'He's a member of the government, deal with it.' Greg snaps.

Greg and Jim wait in Anthea's office for nearly seventy minutes. As the minutes tick by Greg could see her get more and more impatient to get back to her work but leaving it in the drawers to keep all the information from Moriarty. Finally Mycroft finishes his meeting and escorts the other government officials to the door of his office and nods to Greg behind the aforementioned officials and glowers at Jim. Jim, uncharacteristically, stays silent and watches as the unimportant men (in his mind) take their leave. Mycroft, Jim, Anthea and Greg watch the door close before Mycroft's pleasant expression drops, Jim grins, Anthea sighs and Greg grimaces as he glances at his watch. 'Took you long enough Mycroft.' Greg growls. 'I don't want to leave them there for much longer.'

'I apologize Gregory. Come into my office.' Mycroft leads Greg and Jim into the main part of the office and takes them to the corner with the armchairs. He sits with his back to the window, the same one he had sat in when he had found out about Sherlock and John's regression. Greg takes the one facing the desk forcing Jim to take the one facing the window and facing away from the desk.

'My, my I would say you are trying to hide things from me.'

'I wonder what gave you that idea?' Mycroft mutters sarcastically.

'Sarcasm doesn't suit Mr Iceman.'

'Have you seen him with the kids? Not so iceman.' Greg asks.

'Underestimation.'

'What do you want from me?' Jim decides to get down to business.

'One, the recipe, two, the reason for your help, three-'

'A promise that no criminal activity will be done by you or your people for the next three months.' Jim bursts out laughing.

'Do you really think that I will accept that Detective Inspector?'

'Yes.' Greg's simply reply quiets Jim so effectively, that Mycroft raises his eyebrow.

'Well, we could negotiate Inspector, but I can't promise.'

'And the recipe?'

'Not yet in my possession, but soon will be.'

'You didn't order the theft?' Mycroft asks slightly surprised.

'Nope. You managed to hide this one very well Mr Holmes. Would have if I had known.'

'Who was it?'

'The thief?' Jim shrugs. 'I don't know. Who gave the order? Althelney.' Jim sends a teasing glance to Greg.

'Why did they kidnap they boys?'

'Why do criminals act suddenly?'

'They want us to back off.'

'But their plan went awry. When they aged.'

'What were they given?'

'A sedative.'

'Yes, thank you Jim, we worked that one out.' Greg snaps pulling himself out of his chair and moving to the window.

'He really cares about them.'

'Of course he does. Why wouldn't he?'

'I am still here.'

'My apologies.' Jim smirks. 'James?' Jim raises his eyebrows. Mycroft sends a glance towards Greg.

'Sorry.' The consulting criminal mutters. Greg smiles grimly.

'The reason for your help.' Mycroft asks getting the subject away from Greg and his feelings. Jim laughs.

'I've already told you. Only I get to play with Sherlock.'

'Play with Sherlock.' Mycroft repeats carefully. Greg sniggers

'Oh hush not like that.'

'Like what, if you don't mind my asking.' Jim starts getting flustered. Mycroft bites back a quiet sniggers. Greg doesn't have such inhibitions. Jim grits his teeth and narrows his eyes attempting to belittle The British Government and one of the top Detective Inspectors. But he fails miserably. Instead he growls.

'He's trying to be a canine now Mycroft.'

'Yes, I believe so.'

'Shut up.' He snarls. Greg turns to face the room.

'Jim, each time you do that, you just play into our hands.' The consulting criminal visibly draws himself up and takes several deep breaths to calm himself.

'Where is the recipe Jim?' Greg asks suddenly.

'One of Althelney's people is bringing it over to mine. I'll let you know when I have it.'

'You will bring it straight to me or Mycroft _without _copying it.'

'Especially since we don't know all potential side effects.'

'Mycroft.' Greg growls. 'We need to talk. But later.'

'Of course.'

'To clear up then.'

'You will give us the recipe as soon as you get your hands on it. You will give your people a three month break.'

'One month.'

'Five months.' Greg counters.

'Fine, three.'

'To confirm; you will give us the recipe as soon as you get your hands on it. You will give your people a three month break and you will stay away from the children.' Jim opens his mouth to contradict the final terms but one of the phones on Mycroft's desk begins to ring and cuts him off. Mycroft nods at Greg to answer it. 'That's the phone to Anthea's desk.'

'Mr Holmes' office.' Greg's serious expression morphs into a broad smile. 'Okay, understood… Why and spoil their fun, would I do such a thing.' Greg replaces the receiver and scoots back across the room to the window. He looks out and ducks down crawling the width of the room to hide behind the armchairs.

'What are you doing?'

'Its called playing Jim.' Greg glances at his watch. 'Either of you give me away and I will kill you.'


	37. Chapter 36, Jim's Conditions

**Chapter 36**

**Jim's Conditions**

Mycroft, Jim and Greg stop chatting and sit in silence when they hear two pairs of smallish running feet. Greg shuffles himself further behind Mycroft's chair. As soon as he stops moving the main office door bursts open. Mycroft and Jim look over to see Sherlock and John tumble into the office laughing. Mycroft smiles as the boys struggle to get themselves to their feet. From his position on the floor Sherlock scans the room. 'Where's Uncle Greg?' he demands finally standing up. John scrambles upright and looks around as well. He smirks. 'What?' John shakes his head

'Why aren't you speaking Johnny boy?' Jim asks. Both boys scowl having successfully ignored him but they don't answer. 'Oh.' In his not so good hiding place Greg struggles to stop himself from sniggering. John's eyes narrows and he takes off down the room and dart behind Mycroft's chair. He jumps onto Greg's stomach and bursts out laughing. Greg seizes him around the middle and he rolls the boy off his abdomen and they roll around on the floor. Sherlock watches before running over himself and jumping on his two best friends. They roll around for a few moments before Greg manages extract himself from the boys and stands upright. He reaches down and pulls both boys to their feet as well. Sherlock swiftly detaches himself and moves across to Mycroft and clambers into his lap.

'You are just a big baby aren't you?' Mycroft wraps his arms around his much younger brother. Sherlock squirms on his lap, digging his elbows into Mycroft's chest. 'Ow, you cheeky bugger.' Mycroft tickles Sherlock's torso making the eight-year-old wriggle even more.

'Isn't that making him dig his elbows in even more?' Greg asks with his arms wrapped around the young John.

'No, he's twisting away from me. Aren't you?'

'Mycroft!' Sherlock whines. 'Stop it.'

'What were we given?'

'When?' Jim asks.

'You said sedated, with what?' Sherlock manages to gasp in between giggles.

'Mycroft stop it now.' Greg says and Mycroft obeys

'You don't know?' Jim teases. 'I thought you would have known.'

'Some of my knowledge has been repressed by my youth.' Sherlock states. He glances at his elder brother before scrambling off and hiding behind Greg.

'I saw a small bottle of Vallergan in the kitchen of the warehouse.'

'Vallergan was collected as part of evidence.'

'You did let one go didn't you?' Jim asks worriedly. 'Only they knew where to send everything.'

'Yes, just like you said.' Greg says patiently 'We've put a GPS tracker on her.' Jim jerks upright and stares at Greg who buries his nose in the soft blonde hair, not making eye contact with the devious consultant. Sherlock glances between the two and smirks. Jim transfers his gaze to his young counterpart.

'What?' He snarls.

'Nothing.' Sherlock sings. Having regained control of his facial muscles Greg looks up and again. He makes eye contact with Mycroft who nods. Greg straightens and steers John back towards the office door. Sherlock stays in the middle of the office before Greg reaches out and grabs his shoulder drawing the dark haired genius child with them.

'Where are you going?' Jim snaps the departing men.

'It's getting on. Nearly time for tea.'

'Tea?' Sherlock asks.

'Dinner.' John clarifies.

'Oh.'

'Where's Sally?' Greg asks. 'She should have dropped you off.'

'She did. Then got called back to the yard.' John pipes up.

'Oh okay.'

'She texted you.' Greg fishes his phone out of his coat pocket.

'So she did.'

'What's up?' Mycroft asks.

'A certain person may be losing a certain document and a decent amount of money.' Greg smiles. Both Mycroft and Jim look confused. Greg makes eye contact with Mycroft and flicks his eyes towards Jim. Mycroft understands and smiles. 'Come on you two. Your Auntie Mary wants s home by seven.'

'In bed by half eight.' Mycroft says.

'No.' Sherlock protests.

'Why ever not?' Greg asks propelling the boy genius out of the door. John wriggles out of Greg's grip and scampers across to Mycroft's desk and collects Greg's coat and runs back to his guardian carrying the garment. 'Thanks John.' Mycroft and Jim hear.

'Lock, shut it.' John's giggling voice floats into the office.

'Don't take his side.'

'You're giving me a headache.'

'Boys don't push each other.' Jim smirks at the tired tone.

'Still here?' Mycroft asks sarcastically.

'The silver fox seems to be bypassing me for you to get your chemical recipe back. And taking my rent off me.' Jim adds in mock sadness. Jim stands and looks around the office. 'I'm giving them space, I would be following them otherwise.'

'Good.' Mycroft says simply. He takes out his pocket watch and glances at the time. The two of them hear the chatter of happy eight-year-olds and the odd comments from their guardian go under Mycroft's office window. 'Time for you to go.' Mycroft stands and walks to the door of the anteroom. 'Anthea, please escort Mr Moriarty out of the building and make sure he goes on his way.'

'Oh Mykey, why you so cold?'

'Do I really need to answer that pathetically obvious question?'

'Well yeah.'

'Because you are a criminal of the highest calibre. You forced my little brother to fake his suicide and caused an untold amount of pain and misery to John and Greg.'

'It was your fault, you shouldn't have told me.'

'We needed the information you had.'

'But I didn't have it.'

'Semantics. You chose you give that information to a member of the scum.'

'The _scum_?

'Also known as the federation of journalism.' Jim snorts and walks to the door. He pauses and looks at Mycroft.

'You must be feel really guilty.'

'More than you ever will, James. More than you will ever know.'

'Is that why you are so caring with them being boys?'

'No, when Sherlock was eight first time round we were close. I would say those feelings are resurfacing. Chances are next time Sherlock ages he will start resenting me. NOW GET OUT.' Mycroft sudden emotion surprises and scares Jim sending him scurrying out of the office and following Anthea down the hall. Mycroft walks over to his chair behind the desk and sinks into the leather before placing his elbows on his desk and his head in his hands. When Anthea returns she peeks into the office and sees Mycroft's shoulders shaking. Sensing that he needs space she quietly closes the door to begin preparations for a strong pot of tea.


	38. Chapter 37, Theft Again?

**Chapter 37**

**Theft Again?**

Jim creeps back into the government building that houses the office of one Mycroft Holmes. He waits for the receptionist to go on a break. As soon as she does Jim leaps from his hiding place and bounds over the desk to get at her computer. He snorts in derision when he sees that she hasn't logged out of the system. He smirks. It would be easier than he thought. He quickly hacks onto the mainframe and looks for the building where the lab dealing with the chemical is situated. He quickly finds it out and looks at the security blueprints. Jim clicks on the list of personal aloud into the room. He frowns. 'Only two.' He mutters under his breath. 'Neither of them Mr Mycroft Holmes.' He glances up in time to see the receptionist returning to her post. He quickly clears the browsing history and clears the desk running back to his hiding place. The receptionist retakes her seat without realising that anything had happened while she had been gone. Jim smirks and leaves his hiding place with the information he needs.

Sixty minutes later, Jim finds himself outside of a rather nondescript building just outside the centre of London. Impressed he looks over the front. It could have been anything. Not a single feature could be interpreted to imply that government laboratories are based here. Well except maybe it is the best kept building on the street and a few of the people coming and going are too well dressed for this part of town. Jim grins to himself and starts forward to the front door. He approaches the front desk and smiles at the receptionist with less than average intelligence. 'How may I help you sir?'

'Hi.' Jim grins a feral grin. 'I'm supposed to deliver a small package of papers to one of the lab. Only I forgot my access card.' He changes his expression to a sheepish one.

'Oh that's no problem. Which lab was it?' Jim screws his face pretending to access his memory bank.

'The… regression lab.' He says finally. 'Yes that was it, the regression lab. Sorry my memory isn't that great and I got told to memorize the way and everything.' The receptionist giggles.

'Tell me about it.'

'Maybe over a drink sometime?'

'That would be lovely.'

'Where's the lab?' Jim gets the subject back on track before the dim witted administrator can give him her number.

'Down the hall, fourth left, third right, second door on your right then immediately to your left.'

'Thanks very much.' Jim smiles. The receptionist tosses her hair back but Jim ignores her and strides off down the hall. His pleasant expression evaporating as he progresses away from her.

Jim follows the directions and quickly finds himself outside the door allowing the only access to the laboratory where the regression chemical is made. He looks in the small window in the door trying to get a small idea of how everything is situated. 'Do you have a reason to be here?' A voice behind him asks. Jim turns plastering a fake smile on his face. He sees a scientist dressed in the stereotypical white coat but with jeans and a semi smart shirt underneath.

'Umm, yeah. Mr Holmes sent me to collect some papers. Only he forgot to give me a pass key.' Jim waves vaguely to the swipe card machine.

'That will be because he doesn't have one.'

'Oh?'

'For reasons of security Mr Holmes advised that only me and my colleague should be the ones to have access to the lab while the experiments are on going. Hasn't completely worked though.'

'How come?'

'Someone managed to get in here a few days back and steal some papers.'

'Were they caught?' Jim asks despite himself

'Not that I know of. Don't get any of the chemical on your skin.'

'What would happen?'

'Simplistically, you become a kid.'

'I promise I won't touch any chemical.'

'Yeah, right I'll believe it when I see it.' The technician pushes the door open and lets the both of them in.

'Where do you keep the papers?'

'Depends which papers you mean.' Jim looks around at the papers lying on different benches. He pretends to moan.

'Looks like I'll have to go through each and every one then.'

'Rather you than me mate.' Jim grins, which disappears as soon as the technician turns his back. He grabs the nearest pile of papers and rifles through them.

Forty minutes later, Jim is half way around the lab and has memorised everything relevant to the case of Sherlock and John's regression. He is pretty sure that he could recreate the basic recipe of the regression chemical in his own labs. The technician lays a hand on Jim's shoulder making him jump slightly. 'Just popping out for a bit, you'll be alright here on your own for a bit?'

'I'll be fine.' Jim assures the technician.

'See you in about ten.'

'Okay.' Jim makes it look like he's gone back to the paperwork but in reality he's watching the science technician walks away down the corridor. As soon as he turns the corner Jim jumps up form his seat and swiftly moves around the corner to the bench the technician was working at. Jim scans the handwritten notes lying on the counter and realises that the bluish liquid in the flask holding the papers down is the chemical. Jim smiles to himself.

Twenty minutes later, the technician re-enters the lab and spots Jim examining the chemical. 'You weren't here for any papers were you?'

'Not in that sense, no.'

'You wanted the recipe.'

'Well yeah.' The technician glances at a small wet patch on Jim's arm

'Is that the chemical?'

'What?' Jim is genuinely confused. The technician strides over to Jim and sniffs the damp patch on the consulting criminal's sleeve. 'That, yeah.'

'When did this spill?'

'Just moved the flask over and it tipped slightly.'

'But when?'

'Ten, fifteen minutes ago.' The technician freezes.

'How do you feel?'

'Fine.'

'No tingles or pin and needles on the site?'

'No.' Jim starts to get impatient. 'Why?'

'I assume you know of Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson?'

'Of course.'

'They were exposed to only a fraction of you have been.' Jim's face pales.

'How long?'

'It took them twelve hours. Get in the shower it may slow the progress. Take the strain off your body.' Jim allows the technician to bundle him into the shower and take his favourite Westwood suit to be washed clean of the chemical. The technician walks over to the phone near the main door of the lab. He picks up the handset and dials a number.

'Mr Holmes, we have another potential regression. Yes sir. I believe it's Jim Moriarty.'


	39. Chapter 38, Toddler Jim

**Chapter 38**

**Toddler Jim**

Sherlock watches Mycroft's car pull into the drive of the Lestrade household from the playroom window. He rushes into the dining room. 'Mycroft's here.'

'Sherlock sit down and eat your dinner.' Sherlock scowls at Mary but slips into his chair and reluctantly eats a couple of mouthfuls. As he swallows the doorbell rings. He leaps up to answer the door. 'Sit down Sherlock.'

'John, you may go and answer the door.' Greg adds. John nods and smirks as he leaves the dining room. 'Keep eating Sherlock.'

'Good evening Mycroft.' John's voice floats back into the dining room.

'Good evening John, is Gregory available?'

'I'll just go and get him.' John scampers back into the dining room. 'Uncle Greg, Mycroft and Jim want a word.'

'Jim?' Greg asks. John grins broadly with his eyes sparkling.

'Go and see.' Sherlock starts to climb down from his seat.

'Not you, Sherlock. Eat up your dinner.'

'But he's my brother.' The eight year old protests.

'And he asked for me.' Greg rises from his seat and leaves the room closing the door behind him. Sherlock pouts and stuffs another forkful of food into his mouth.

'Why's Jim here?'

'Wait and see.' John reveals in the fact that he knows something that Sherlock doesn't.

'Finish your food, boys.' the boys do as Mary tells them. Sherlock keeps his ears out to try and pick up on the conversation between his brother and father. John watches him out of the corner of his eye still grinning. Suddenly Sherlock drops his fork to his plate. 'Sherlock.'

'Excuse me.' Sherlock leaps from his seat and runs out of the room. Mary and John listen to his footsteps pound up the stairs.

'I think he's worked out what's happened.' John giggles.

'Go on what's happened?'

'The chemical that made Sherlock and me regress, well I think that Jim decided he wanted a copy of the real thing, not just the recipe. He was trying to hide behind Mycroft when I answered the door.'

'So Jim Moriarty is three.' John nods giggling. Sherlock's footsteps thunder back down the stairs and he bursts back into the dining room

'Jim's a toddler!' Sherlock bursts out laughing.

'Sherlock. Eat your food.' Mary admonishes. Greg reappears in the doorway.

'I take it Sherlock has worked it out, judging by Sherlock's journey upstairs.'

'Yes he has.'

'He's not staying here.'

'Why can't he?'

'They'll fight.' John says.

'No we won't.'

'You sure about that?' Greg teases.

'Very.'

'Only one way to find that out Sherlock.' Mary says simply. 'Can he stay?'

'I suppose.' Sherlock says reluctantly. John giggles. Sherlock kicks him under the table, but John draws his feet up causing Sherlock to miss him and kick the underneath of the table. 'Ow.'

'Serves you right.' Greg laughs. He leans back and looks into the next room 'Jim, come in here and have some food.'

'NO.' Greg tries to stop his grin from spreading across his face.

'Mary.' Greg motions for her to fetch the regressed criminal from the playroom. Greg retakes his seat at the table. 'Make fun of him and no ice cream or other treats for two days.'

'Just for today right?'

'Don't be too mean.' Mary re-enters carrying the new addition to the family. The toddler of a consulting criminal scowls at the eight-year-old consulting detective. Sherlock purses his lips trying to stop a retort from escaping his lips.

'Say it I dare you.' Jim snarls. John rolls his eyes at the advanced vocabulary from the Irish genius. Sherlock childishly pretends zips his lips and throw away the key. Greg glares at Sherlock. The dark haired eight-year-old makes a 'what?' face at the detective inspector.

'Be very careful of what you say Sherlock.'

'I haven't said anything.'

'Jim?' John asks to distract the new toddler.

'What?' he snarls.

'Have you heard of Anderson?'

'Of course, he's an idiot.' John grins.

'We played a massive prank on him earlier.' Sherlock states Jim's eye glitters.

'How?'

'Black out filters, fake pens and paper, vanishing ink, loosened the bolts on his chair, poured a strong glue into the foot well.' Sherlock lists.

'All his ideas.' John interrupts. 'We also tied a length of string to the stem of his chair and when the glue had set around his shoes we pulled the chair from under him.' Jim giggles. Greg closes his eye silently thankful that John was able to distract the new toddler.

'What are we doing tomorrow?' Sherlock asks suddenly.

'What would you like to do tomorrow?'

'Go to the morgue again.'

'No.' John says.

'But you can see Dom and I won't be bored because I'll be helping Molly.'

'What about Jim?' Mary asks. Sherlock thinks.

'You can take him shopping for Westwood, rather than Spencer Hart. Besides my toddler suits will be too big for him.'

'Where will he sleep, Auntie Mary?'

'He'll have to go into your room boys.'

'Which reminds me, all you three need to give a blood sample.' Greg says

'Why?' The three boys chorus.

'To check that the Vallergan was really the thing that made you two grow. We'll get Molly to draw it tomorrow.'

'Why Molly?' Jim asks.

'She knows most of what is going on. It's safer for you this way.'

'We can visit Dom as well?'

'Of course.' Mary gathers the plates up and carries them out of the room. She returns moments later with their desserts. Sherlock salivates at the melt-in-the-middle chocolate pudding. He eagerly delves into his and begins to eye up all the others.

'That's all you're getting Sherlock. We aren't giving you ours.' Greg watches Sherlock devour his pudding.

'But-' Sherlock protests with his mouth stuffed with chocolate sponge.

'Especially if you talk with your mouth full.' Mary adds.

'But Jim isn't eating his.'

'It's too hot.' Counters Jim. 'I'm waiting for it to cool down enough.' Sherlock scowls making John giggle. Sherlock aims to kick John again but this time John twists to the side making Sherlock miss for a second time.

'Sherlock, what have we said about kicking?' Mary reprimands

'Not to do it.' the eight year old mumbles before stuffing another spoonful in his mouth.

'So why did you?' Sherlock shrugs. 'Sherlock?'

'Felt like it.' He mutters

'Apologise.' Sherlock glares at Greg. 'Now.' The detective inspector adds calmly.

'But I didn't touch him.'

'Sherlock.'

'Sorry John.' Sherlock murmurs.

'It's okay.' John says.

'Finish your pudding and get ready for bed, you two.'

'He's not.' Sherlock complains.

'Yes he is.' Jim had finished his pudding while Greg and Mary were disciplining Sherlock. Greg stands and carries the now sleepy Jim out of the room.


	40. Chapter 39, Nightmare Revelations

**Chapter 39**

**Nightmare Revelations**

In the middle of Jim's first night in the Lestrade Household and his first night in his three-year-old body, something wakes him. He pushes his covers back with too small hands. 'Annoying isn't it?' A voice asks. He turns to see the eight-year-old Sherlock watching him. No, not watching him, watching John on the other side of him.

'What is?'

'Being small when you're used to being an adult.' Jim turns to look at the blonde child still asleep tossing and turning under his covers. Something flies out from the bigger boy's bed and hits Jim

'Ow.' Sherlock giggles. Jim grabs it and throws the teddy bear at Sherlock who deftly catches it and slips out of his bed. Jim watches as Sherlock edges around their beds towards John's. He stops at the foot of John's bed and looks at his disturbed friend. 'You're scared.' Jim taunts. Sherlock throws him a scowl.

'Go and get Greg.' he orders

'Why?' Jim whispers before pouting and crossing his arms across his chest.

'Because he needs Greg.' Jim pouts again for form's sake, but climbs out of his bed and edges towards the door. He glances at the young consulting detective to dare him to make a comment about his minor fear of the dark. His eyes widen when he takes in the worried expression on Sherlock's face as he looks on the blonde boy. Jim hesitates at the door

'Umm, which door are they?'

'Straight across.' Sherlock whispers clearly torn between waiting for Greg and waking John up himself. 'Hurry.' Sherlock's soft whisper barely reaches Jim's ears. Jim nods and scurries across the landing towards the door of the master bedroom. Sherlock looks over his shoulder to watch his progress. A cry from John's bed makes Sherlock's head snaps back to look at his best friend. Tears form in the corners of Sherlock's eyes and he clutches John's bear to his chest buries his face into the bear's head. Moments later, Greg strides through the door and kneels next to Sherlock.

'Have you tried?' Sherlock shakes his head. 'Go to Auntie Mary.' Sherlock shakes his head again. Greg smiles grimly before moving to the side of John's bed. 'John, wake up.' Greg cautiously places his hand on John's shoulder. John reflexively lashes out catching Greg on the jaw. Greg reels back and lands heavily on Jim's bed. Sherlock rushes over to him but is slightly pushed away. 'It's okay Shock. I expected it. Still want to stay?' Sherlock nods.

'Yes.' he whispers.

'Go to the other side.' Sherlock scurries over and into position. 'Take his hands and try to keep them near you.' Sherlock nods seriously. 'Now.' Sherlock drops the teddy and seizes John's hands with his. Greg waits for a moment before cupping John's cheek and stroking it. 'John.' he whispers. 'John, it's Stwade. John wake up for me.' John trashes his head trying to get Greg off.

'You're scaring him.' Sherlock whispers, wide eyed.

'You try.' Sherlock shakes his head. 'Sherlock, just do what I did. I'll take his hands.' Greg covers Sherlock's and John's with his own hands and draws the blonde boy's out of Sherlock's. Sherlock swallows nervously. 'You can do it.' Greg closes his eyes and seems to come to a decision. 'Sherlock. You have two brothers. Mycroft.' Sherlock nods at that statement. 'And John.' Sherlock stares at Greg. 'You share a father. You and John.'

'Is that why he can stand to live with me?' Sherlock whispers.

'I think partly so. And Mary does too. Sherlock, we believe in you. I wouldn't ask if I wasn't sure that you could do it.' Sherlock stares at Greg for what seems like hours but is in fact only a couple of seconds. Another anguished cry from John jolts Sherlock into action. He mimics Greg's earlier actions but cupping John's face with his hands and stroking the other boy's cheek.

'John?' Sherlock whispers. 'John, Wake up. It's just a nightmare.' A couple of tears fall from Sherlock's eyes and roll down his cheeks. Sherlock ignores them and glances at Greg who nods. One tear lands on John's cheek and he stills. Greg releases John's hands gingerly.

'Keep going Shock.' Sherlock nods once and leans his forehead onto John's. Sherlock closes his eyes and stays there. Still sleeping John completely relaxes. Sherlock smiles and Greg breathes a sigh of relief. Sherlock leans back.

'John?' John's eyes flutter open. He struggles to focus for a couple of seconds before locking gazes with Sherlock. The boy with raven curls offers his friend and brother a weak smile.

'How are you feeling John?' Greg asks softly.

'Did I wake people?' he asks weakly. Sherlock nods.

'Me and Jim.' John groans.

'John, look at me.' John turns his head away from Sherlock. 'It's okay to have nightmares. What was this one about?'

'Mother, Father, me, Harry.' John whispers.

'John, I'm not sure I should be the one to tell you this. But Henry Watson is not your real father.' John's eyes widen. Greg watches and sees "Who is?" forming on his lips. 'I'm not entirely sure who is but I do know that he is a brave and honourable man.' Greg pauses. 'Who also fathered Sherlock. You and Sherlock are half-brothers.' John looks at Sherlock. 'Come on sit up John. Let me and Shock sit down.' John pulls himself into a sitting position and Greg perches himself on one side. John shuffles over and Greg moves to a slightly more comfortable position. Then John climbs onto Greg's lap, allowing Sherlock to take John's former space. Greg puts his arms around the two boys and they allow him to cuddle them close.

'You said you don't know who our father is but you know he's brave and honourable how?' Sherlock asks into Greg's chest

'I might not be the world's only consulting detective,' A small smirk from Sherlock, 'but I do see similar characteristics in the pair of you. Bravery, loyalty, honour, tenacity and a drive help as many people as you can. It's not hard to see that your father must have these qualities as well.' Greg unconsciously begins to rock the two eight year olds to sleep. They both succumb to the pulls of the dreamland. Greg eases Sherlock down into a better sleeping position first before carefully shifting John into a position where he can hold the boy as he stands and removes himself from the equation. He gently lays the blonde boy back onto his bed and the two of them hold each other as they dream. He pulls the covers over the boys tucking them in again. He softly kisses each of their foreheads before returning to his own room to find Jim asleep on Mary's chest.

'He's staying here tonight.'

'I've told them half the truth.'

'Half?'

'That they are brothers. I said that I didn't know who their father was. I couldn't.'

'It wouldn't have been the right time.' Mary concurs. Greg slips back under the covers and cuddles up to the sleeping regressed consulting criminal and his wife.


	41. Chapter 40, Morning After

**Chapter 40**

**Morning After**

Greg wakes to his alarm blaring in his ear and a little boy giggling in the other one. Greg tries to keep a smile off his face but the alarm keeps blaring and a headache begins to form. He groans and throws the alarm clock across the room startling Mary awake. 'Greg.' She admonishes.

'Blame Jim.' He retorts. The boy in question climbs into Mary's arms with an angelic expression. '_Someone_ decided it was fun to place my alarm clock right next to my ear.' Greg pokes Jim's stomach on every other word making him squirm and giggle. Greg glances at the remains of his alarm clock, his working alarm clock. Greg raises his eyebrow

'You bought it because it would work after you throw tantrums.' Greg groans.

'Work. I don't wanna go.' Mary pokes her husband in the stomach.

'Paternity leave?' Jim giggles and climbs out of Mary's arms and onto Greg's stomach and lies there like a dead weight. Greg bangs his head on his pillow.

'I'm bored already.'

'Thanks for that.' Mary jests.

'You know what I mean.' Greg hits Mary with one of the pillows, starting a small pillow fight. Or rather he getting completely and utterly defeated by an onslaught of pillows from both Mary and Jim. 'Right.' Greg decides to take evasive action. He rolls onto his side therefore dislodging Jim from his stomach, before immediately rolling the other way and off the bed.

'Cheat.' Mary claims as Greg stands up.

'You nicked my weapons.' Greg counters. Jim pouts at the loss of his victim. Greg smiles and ruffles his hair. 'Bath time.' Jim narrows his eyes and tries to escape from the bed. Greg snags his leg and pulls the three-year-old towards him. Greg lets go again and Jim tries to get away again but Greg firmly seizes hold around his tummy and hoists him over his shoulder and strides towards the door.

'I'll bathe him.' Mary says climbing off the bed and following the two of them into the bathroom. 'You go and check on the boys.' Greg deposits Jim onto the bathroom chair and leaves him for Mary to deal with. Greg edges past Mary in the doorway and kisses her on the cheek just before he makes his way to the boy's bedroom. Mary bats him away before turning her attention to the three-year-old. Greg watches them for a couple of seconds before glancing over to the door of the boy's bedroom. He walks carefully and pushes the door open he smiles at the two boys sleeping in each other's arms. Clearly giving comfort to each other. Greg watches them for a couple of moments before glancing at their clock. He sighs softly and walks over to them. He gently shakes the two of them awake.

'John, Sherlock.' The two eight year olds stir. John wakes up slightly quicker than his brother.

'Stwade.' he murmurs. Greg smiles.

'That's right. It's time to wake up.' John rubs his eyes carefully as to not disturb his eccentric brother.

'I'm awake.' Greg helps the blonde boy out from under his brother. 'Need a shower.'

'Wait for Mary to finish to bathing Jim.' John nods and stretches as he stands up. The loss of John's weight from the bed wakes Sherlock. He whimpers and burrows under the covers. 'I don't think so young man.' Greg pulls the duvet off the bed. Sherlock curls up trying to get the warmth back.

'Lemme sleep.' He whines.

'No.' Greg says. 'You have stuff to do today.'

'Come on Lock.' John giggles. An idea occurs to Greg.

'Jim's up, and behaving perfectly.' John looks across at Greg who winks at him. Sherlock scowls up at Greg. 'He will have to decide the itinerary for the day.'

'No.'

'You want to stay in bed.' Sherlock stretches out and clicks a couple of joints in place.

'I'm up.' Greg glances over his shoulder to see a freshly washed Jim being carried out of the bathroom.

'John, your turn.' Greg and Sherlock watch as John takes over use of the bathroom. Sherlock stares at Greg making him feel a little uncomfortable. 'What?'

'What you said last night.'

'What about it?' Greg asks carefully.

'You said me and John.'

'You and John.'

'That we're brothers.' Confusion is evident in Sherlock's eyes and it scares him.

'You are brothers.'

'Same father, different mothers?' Greg nods. Sherlock nods. 'You know our father.' Sherlock states it as a fact rather than a question but Greg answers it anyway.

'I know what he is, but not who.'

'Liar.'

'Sherlock.' Mary warns behind Greg carrying a now fully clothed Jim into the room. 'Don't push it.'

'But-' Sherlock starts stopping only when Greg abruptly turns and leaves the room.

'Greg?' Mary asks. Greg brushes her off preferring to head downstairs.

'I'll start breakfast.' Jim wriggles out of Mary's arms and runs after him.

'He knows who my father is.' Sherlock says sadly. Mary sits on the bed next to him.

'I know, maybe your father asked him to watch over you but keep his identity a secret. Have you considered that?' Sherlock looks up at her and shakes his head. 'You know Greg is a man who likes to keep his word. And one who hates lying to people. This is hurting him, lying to you. Of course he knows who your father is, but do you really want him to break a promise?' Sherlock looks at her and shakes his head. John re-enters the room with a towel around his waist. 'Your turn for a shower Shock.' Mary kisses the top of his curls before leaving the room to get herself dressed.

'Where's Jim?' John asks towelling his hair sending droplets of water everywhere.

'Downstairs with Uncle Greg.' Sherlock replies heading for the bathroom.

John makes his way downstairs to the kitchen to find Jim tucking into a small bowl of cereal. 'Mine and Sherlock's father.' John starts.

'What about him?' Greg asks.

'He asked you to keep an eye on us didn't he?' Greg nods. 'Is he dead?'

'No. I may not know where he is but I do know he's alive.'

'He asked for you to keep him secret didn't he?' Greg nods. 'Then I won't ask you to tell me.' Greg grins at the eight-year-old 'Sherlock tried didn't he?' Greg smiles at him and nods. 'Want me to have a go at him?'

'That will not be needed John.' Mary says walking into the kitchen. 'He understands now.' Mary ruffles John's hair and he nudges her away. 'What do you want for breakfast?'

'A Full English.' Greg and Mary laugh.

'I think that can be arranged.' Greg says as he selects up the necessary items from the fridge and cupboards. 'Cholesterol city for four I think.'

'Bit forward of you, Greggy. I might not want any.'

'Ah, but I know you.' The two of them smile as John takes a seat at the bar. Mary joins him to watch the detective inspector cook four people a classic full English breakfast each. Sherlock joins them his stomach rumbling, as he smells the enticing aromas from Greg's cooking.

'I think someone's hungry.' John jests. Sherlock scowls at him.


	42. Chapter 41, Bone Games

****_**A/N:- I swear it's not as gruesome as it sounds**_

**Chapter 41**

**Bone Games**

Jim rubs the track mark from where the needle went in to draw the blood out for the blood tests. Molly smiles at him. 'All done.' Jim scowls at her. 'You are a sweet three year old.'

'I'm sweet?' he spits out. Molly leans in to him

'I dare say you're sweeter than Sherlock was.' She whispers.

'I heard that.' Sherlock shouts from the mortuary floor.

'You were meant to.' Molly shouts back.

'Right.' Greg speaks startling Molly and Jim. 'That's all of them done.' Molly transfers the blood from the syringe into a phial ready to be sent to Mycroft's scientists for testing. Sherlock appears at the door.

'I could run the tests.'

'I know you could. But you wouldn't give the information to Mycroft. You still haven't told him how long it took the two of you to age.'

'We ageda single year every one hour, seven minutes and four seconds.'

'Repeat that.' Molly requests Sherlock. The eight year old rolls his eyes,

'We aged one year every one hour, seven minutes and four seconds. Or sixty-seven minutes and four seconds. Or four thousand and twenty four seconds. Take your pick.' Sherlock returns to the main floor of the morgue.

'Molly, can you keep an eye on Jim and Sherlock while I take John to see his brother?'

'Sure. I've only got paperwork to do anyway.'

'Thank you. We'll be about thirty minutes.'

'Take your time.'

'Why can't I come?'

'Are you a relation of John?'

'No.'

'Then you can't come.'

'Why isn't Sherlock?'

'He'll get bored.' John says appearing in the door to Molly's office.

'Ready?' John shrugs. 'Come on.' Greg walks to the door and places his arm around the boy's shoulders to boy upstairs towards his older brother. Jim and Molly watch them go. She gently pushes off her desk to allow her to start to package the blood phials properly.

'I'm bored.' Jim whines.

'Go and be with Sherlock. Don't annoy him too much.' Jim smiles

'I'll try not to.' Molly rolls her eyes and smiles.

'Jim.' Molly warns. Jim flashes her a bright and innocent smile before disappearing into the mortuary. Molly makes sure that she keeps her ears open for sounds of the two boys arguing. Listening to the near silence for several minutes, enough time for her to complete the paperwork for the phials of blood, she becomes worried. The enemies shouldn't be this quiet. Molly tidies up the paperwork and walks casually onto the mortuary floor. She stops in shock as she sees the two dark-haired boys kneeling side by side next to the skeleton with labelled bones. Only the labels are in Sherlock's hand and Jim is studying the skeleton carefully.

'How about we change it slightly?' Jim turns his head and stares at the older boy.

'How?'

'I say the name of a bone and you point it out.'

'No.'

'Why not?' Molly asks making both the boys jump.

'Because… because…' For once, Jim doesn't have an answer.

'Because it feel's like he's got the upper hand. Simple answer he does. And he did before hand as well.' Jim scowls. Molly walks over to them and gathers the younger boy onto her lap. 'At least you won't have to worry about pronunciation.' She whispers into his ear. Jim smirks.

'You're on.' He tells Sherlock.

'Wait, before you start. Sherlock give me the labels.' Molly puts her hand out for them.

'I've already shuffled them.'

'And I'm going to do it again. To make the game fairer.' Sherlock reluctantly hands them over. Molly shifts Jim from her lap and wanders back into her office to shuffle the labels. Well we say shuffle she is really just putting them in a different order to the one she knew Sherlock had put them in. Three minutes later, she re-joins the boys next to the skeleton carrying the labels in a bag. She hands the bag to Sherlock and sends him to the other side of the skeleton. She gathers Jim back onto her lap on cuddles him. She feels him tense up but relax as soon as Sherlock speaks the first bone name.

'Metacarpals.' Jim points to the bones to the palm of the hand nearest him. Sherlock raises his eyebrows. Jim sighs and lifts the arms and points again. Sherlock smirks and lays it down. Molly raises her eyebrows. 'We'll replace them later.' He promises. Jim nods. 'Thoracic vertebrae.' Jim narrows his eyes before pointing under the ribcage to the middle spine. Sherlock lays down the second label. Sherlock snorts at the next one. 'So obvious.' He drawls. 'Ulna.' Jim lifts up the arm by the inner bone.

'Next one, Sherlock.' Molly intervenes before an argument can begin.

'Patella.' Jim points to the kneecap. 'Sacrum.' Jim hesitates but points to the back of the pelvic bone. 'Pelvis.' Jim transfers his finger to the main hipbone. 'Lumbar Vertebrae.' Jim points to the lower spine. The game continues for nearly twenty minutes. John and Greg return to find the three of them are only just finishing the game. 'Phalanges.' Jim narrows his eyes. Molly glances up and smiles. Sherlock spots the smile and turns to look at his brother and friend. Jim ignores them preferring to concentrate on the skeleton. Finally he points to the toe bones. 'Clavicle, fibula maxilla.' Jim points to each of the correct bones. 'And which ones haven't I said?'

'Ribs.' Jim says running his finger down the ribs bones like a xylophone.

'I think, we should ask John to replace all the labels.' Molly speaks, subconsciously rocking the consulting toddler criminal. Jim nods and after a moment so does Sherlock. John joins them on Sherlock's side of the skeleton. He grabs the labels and secures them to the right places on the skeleton's bones. He takes around ten minutes to make sure that he has everything in the right place. He moves back to sit on his heels and nods satisfactorily.

'Done.' He announces. Greg smiles and stops Sherlock from taking them off again.

'Time to move on boys, we've intruded on Molly's time enough today.' The three boys rise simultaneously. 'Sherlock, help Molly replace the skeleton in its proper place.' Sherlock scowls but does as he is told. With the skeleton secure the four of them bid goodbye to Molly and leave the morgue. They pass one of Molly's colleagues whose eyes widen when they clock the three boys.

'Bit irresponsible of him to let the boys come down here isn't it?'

'Why?' Molly asks.

'Those kids aren't much older than eight, right.'

'They're eight and three.' Molly confirms.

'I don't let my children come into work and they're ten and fourteen.' Molly's anger flares up.

'The two eight-year-olds happen to want to be a detective and doctor respectively and their father wants them to be sure they're making the right decision at an early age. Besides, it's not like they've seen a dead body. They were learning about bones, if you really must know. Greg, their father and a good friend of mine, set them a challenge of naming every bone in the right position and in the right order to the older two and just the position for the youngest. All three of them are at a level two or three higher than they should be. Their father knew they could handle it. If he wasn't then they wouldn't have been here.' Behind the colleague the door opens revealing John and Sherlock standing there.

'Auntie Molly?' a slight hesitation from Sherlock. 'Daddy wanted me to give you this.' He waves a letter.

'So why is your brother here?'

'To make sure he doesn't stay and pester you.' John interjects. Molly strides over to the door.

'Letter delivered. Back you go.' John turns immediately, Sherlock lingers making John sigh and grab his brother.

'Come on, Dad wants us to go shopping.'

'Shopping's boring.' Molly laughs quietly.

'A necessary evil.' John says. 'I don't like it either.' John drags Sherlock out of the room and back towards Greg.

'Did either of them seem uncomfortable Rachael?'

'Well no.' Rachael admits reluctantly. 'There were strangely relaxed.'

'Don't dismiss something if you don't know all the facts.' Molly warns, remembering that Rachael doesn't know even a tiny bit of the full story.


	43. Chapter 42, Feeling Lost

**Chapter 42**

**Feeling Lost**

Greg pulls up in a multi-storey car park and ushers Sherlock and John out of the car. He unbuckles the straps holding Jim into the car seat and lifts him out. His phone chimes announcing a text alert. 'Sherlock, this _once_ you are allowed to pick my pocket. Get my phone.' Sherlock beams and darts around the car to get to Greg's coat pocket. He dips his hand in and retrieves the DI's phone.

'A text from Auntie Mary.' He announces.

'Where are we meeting her?'

'On the other side of the car park.' Sherlock says reading the text. Greg looks around and spots Mary walking over from her car on the opposite side of the car park. John bounds over to greet her and gives her a massive hug.

'Oi, keep your kids under control.' A passing motorist shouts. Greg replies with some choice words including;

'He didn't even run onto your path you blundering idiot.'

'Greg.' Mary says trying to hide a smirk.

'Stop smiling.'

'I'm not.' She protests. Greg raises an eyebrow and sighs.

'Your aunt, Jim, is incorrigible. What are we going to do with her?'

'What are you going to do with me?'

'I think today's shopping will be completely on her private account. And save Mycroft's money.'

'You cheeky bee.'

'Are going shopping or are we staying here and arguing?'

'Shopping.' Sherlock and John state.

'Well then, what are we doing?' Greg holds his hand out to Sherlock making his almost drop Jim when the three-year-old wriggles to get down. He manages to stop the boy from hitting the concrete floor and sets him down. Jim seizes one of his hands and reaches out for one of Mary's. Sherlock takes Greg's other hand and John takes Mary's spare hand.

'So, where are we going?'

'Harrods.' Jim says.

'Oxford Street.' Sherlock adds. John just shrugs.

'Harrods and Oxford Street it is then.' Mary says with bulging eyes.

Five hours later the five of them emerge from one of the shops on Oxford Street with plenty of bags being carried by Greg and Mary. A black car pulls up by side them and the window is wound down. 'Need a courier service for the bags?' Anthea asks. Greg looks over at her. 'Are you sure?'

'Mr Holmes sent me.' From inside the car, Anthea nods to the nearest CCTV camera. Greg smiles and shakes his head.

'Doesn't he have anything better to do?' Anthea's phone buzzes. 'Bet you ten quid that says no.' Greg jests. Anthea quickly check it.

'You're right.' Sherlock tugs on Greg's sleeve and he leans down.

'Tell him he's a big fat git who needs to be on a very strict diet.' The boy whispers.

'Sherlock.' Anthea's phone buzzes again. Anthea reads the text out.

'He says, "Let me guess, Shocky Wocky says that I'm a fat git who should be on a diet."' Sherlock bursts out laughing and John giggles. Jim looks confused for a couple of seconds before giggling.

'About right.' Greg says slightly impressed. 'He can't be listening to an audio feed.'

'Lip reading. Well, that and knowing Shock would help quite a bit.'

'Suppose.'

'Can we go to Angelo's for dinner?' Sherlock asks grabbing Greg's hands and swinging it. 'It won't cost anything.' Greg makes a big show of debating the question.

'Sure, why not.' Sherlock grins. Anthea opens the car door and accepts the bags into the car.

'We'll keep them in the office and when you're ready just text Mr Holmes or me and we'll send them over to your house.' She smiles at the three children and closes the door. 'Have fun for the rest of your day.'

'Bye Anthea.' The three boys wave as the car draws off.

'She's creepy.' Jim murmurs when the car disappears into the traffic. Sherlock and John burst out laughing. Suddenly Sherlock stops and looks around. He takes off down the street. John looks after him with confusion.

'Sherlock!' Greg shouts. John's eyes widen.

'We're on Oxford Street.'

'So?' Greg snaps. Which street branches off Oxford Street?' Mary places a calming hand on Greg's shoulder.

'Where do they live?' Greg's expression clears and John takes off after Sherlock.

'There are going home.' Greg swings Jim up onto his hip and the three of them walk after the two eight year olds.

Sherlock stands outside the street door to his flat and stares up at the windows overlooking the street. 'Got the key?' John asks behind him, making him jump. Sherlock brandishes the key he got from the people in the café.

'Yep.'

'Are we going in or staying out here?'

'Is it me or is everything bigger.'

'It will seem bigger, we are smaller.'

'Yes, thank you for that obvious fact John.'

'First time entering the flat as brothers.' John holds his palm out to Sherlock. The taller boy grins and takes it. Together they step forwards towards the door. John glances down the street and spots Mary, Greg and Jim watching them at a discreet distance. John flashes them a grin and nudges Sherlock. Sherlock looks down the street and nods. As one they take another step towards the door. Sherlock reaches out to the wood of the door and runs his hand along the width of the door at chest height to them. John snags the key off Sherlock and unlocks the door. John leads the way in and up the stairs. Sherlock follows slowly, cataloguing everything as if he hadn't seen anything before. John hurries up to the kitchen and scans the area. 'Sherlock, Mrs Hudson has cleared everything up.' He shouts down the stairs. Sherlock bounds up the last few steps and bursts into the kitchen

'She hasn't.' He breathes looking around at the room then at John doubled over laughing. 'You imbecile.' Sherlock goes to hit his brother.

'Sherlock.' Greg's voice warns. Sherlock scowls at Greg. He darts into the living room and spots his beloved violin. He leaps over piles of papers, tables and chairs to grab it. He carefully wipes the thin layer of dust off his treasured instrument and tunes it up. He lays the bow across the strings and draws it across playing a single perfect note. He closes his eyes and turns to the window playing a back sonata perfectly without hesitation or mistakes.

'Can I bring it with us?' Sherlock asks when he finishes the piece still with his eyes still closed.

'Of course you can.' Mary says.

'As long as you don't crucify it when you're bored and you want to annoy everyone.' Greg adds. Jim wriggles off Greg's hip and wanders around the flat before joining John in the kitchen. Greg takes a seat on the sofa glad to get off his feet. Mary joins him and cuddles up.

'Bit messy.' She murmurs.

'This is tidy.' Mary glares at him. 'For Sherlock that is.' Mary rolls her eyes and shakes her head. John walks into the room with two cups of tea. 'Perfectly made, thanks John.' Greg and Mary accept the tea.

'Where are those mugs from?' Sherlock demands.

'My cupboard.' John replies calmly. 'The one you aren't allowed to go in.' John quickly returns to the kitchen and comes back carrying three juice boxes and with Jim tow. The three year old carefully carrying a plate of biscuits.


	44. Chapter 43, Musical Duets

**Chapter 43**

**Musical Duets**

Mycroft walks up the drive towards the Lestrade household to the sound of two violins playing. He pauses as he tries to identify the player of the second violin. The first he recognised instantly, he had listened to Sherlock far too much not to recognise the sound. Mycroft recognises the piece as Handel, Queen of Sheba. He smiles and resumes his walk towards the house. He knocks on the door not expecting to be heard over the violins. He is pleasantly surprised when John opens the door with Jim right behind him. 'We didn't hear you knock. Only Jim did.'

'Queen of Sheba, Handel?' Mycroft asks. John nods.

'Didn't think Sherlock knew it.'

'He didn't. Auntie Mary persuaded him to play it with her.'

'That's Mary?' Jim nods beaming. John smiles at the astonishment on Mycroft's face.

'Are you coming in or just staying on the doorstep?' John asks curiously. Mycroft shakes his head and steps in past John. He gestures for Jim to lead him towards the duet. The three year old acquiesces and leads the government official into the playroom followed by John. Mycroft joins Greg on the sofa and Jim climbs onto Greg's lap and snuggles in to listen to the music. Greg and Mycroft exchange significant glances. John situates himself on the floor leaning on Mycroft's legs. For both the boys the thumbs creep into their mouths. The two men exchange glances again. Greg smiles and shakes his head before leaning his chin on the black fuzzy hair of Jim. Mary and Sherlock come to the end of the piece of music and the four listeners applaud sincerely. The violinists bow accepting the applause and appreciation from the audience.

'First ever time I played that.' Sherlock says excitedly to Mycroft with his eyes sparkling.

'Could have fooled me little brother.' Mycroft compliments.

'Are we taking requests?' Mary asks Sherlock. He tilts his head to one side thinking carefully before nodding cautiously.

'May we hear something from Bach's Musical Offering?' Sherlock nods.

'I don't know that one.' Mary admits. Sherlock routes through the sheet music they had bought over from Baker Street. He finds the one he was looking for and brandishes it with a flourish.

'Have a read, while you listen.' Mary perches on the arm of the sofa next to Greg and leans into him and Jim. Sherlock turns his back and places his violin to his chin and shoulder and begins to play from memory. The intricate scales and patterns that the composer had entwined into the music entrance all five of the listeners especially Mycroft and Jim. About the third of the way through the performance Mycroft's stomach begins to growl, almost on cue Sherlock turns and scowls at his elder brother.

'Hungry?' Greg whispers

'Starving. Teasing you earlier meant I missed lunch.' Mycroft murmurs back. John shushes them furiously from the floor and they grin at each other. Mary playfully slaps the pair of them around the back of their heads.

'Behave.' Greg glances at the clock.

'This piece is in parts right?' Mycroft nods. 'Sherlock, when you finish a part, we'll go to dinner.' Sherlock dips his head with the violin without missing a single beat.

'Show off.' Mycroft mutters. John butts his head into Mycroft's legs. 'Ow. John.' John smirks and Mycroft knows he is. Sherlock finishes the part with a flourish. He and John share a knowing glance.

'Go and wash your hands. Then we can go.' John scrambles to his feet and rushes upstairs. Sherlock carefully replaces his violin into his case and secures the bow into its holder and closes the lid of the case. As soon as the violin is secure Sherlock takes off after John upstairs.

'Where are you going?'

'Angelo's. Apparently nothing really fazes him. Not sure why I'm surprised, he's friendly with Sherlock.'

'And helped out on a couple of cases according to John.'

'Stakeouts?'

'That and a bit of undercover as far as I can make out.'

'I thought you would be a bit worried with him being an ex-con.'

'He's associated with drug dealers. Someone who did a little bit of housebreaking or carjacking is an angel compared the dealers. Besides has he done anything illegal since he was a prime suspect in a murder case?'

'Good point.' John and Sherlock crowd the doorway silently begging for the adults to start moving. After a couple of moments Sherlock looses patience.

'Come on. Hurry up.' He whines. 'Jim, make them hurry up.' Mycroft had thought that the toddler had fallen asleep but the sudden movement startles all three of the adults. He pushes past the eight-years-olds and runs up to the front door and jumps to try and reach the handles. In the playroom Greg groans.

'Last time he managed to open the door.'

'And was off down the street in a matter of seconds.' Mary darts of her perch and swiftly moves to the front door. She just arrives just in the nick of time because Jim is just inching the door open.

'Cheeky monkey.' She sweeps the boy off his feet as Sherlock and John fall about laughing. 'Nice try.' Greg and Mycroft each seize an eight-year-old and throw them over their shoulders carrying them out to the car. Mary straps Jim in the middle seat first and Greg deposits Sherlock behind the driver's seat and Mycroft does the same with John on the passenger's side. Sherlock darts back into the house and dives into the playroom. Everyone surrounding the car can hear him rummaging around in the CDs and DVDs trying find a couple. He emerges triumphantly clutching tow CD cases.

'Mozart and Beethoven.' He replies to Greg's questioning glance. 'Perfect pieces for travelling.' Mycroft lifts an eyebrow. 'Regardless of distance.' Sherlock adds quite spitefully. Greg holds his hand out for the CDs and Sherlock hands them over albeit reluctantly.

'In the car.' Sherlock climbs in and buckles his seat belt without complaining. Greg closes his door and slides into the driver's seat. Mycroft leans between the open door and looks down at Greg.

'Nice to see those to being friendly.' Greg glances in the rear view mirror.

'Yeah, I don't expect it to last though.' Mycroft frowns and steps back. 'You are welcome to join us.'

'And miss a five course banquet cooked by Michelin stars chefs?'

'Fat oaf.'

'Sherlock.' Mary chastises.

'Which reminds me. Did you get the deliveries okay?'

'Yeah the scientists are conducting the tests as we speak.'

'Slave driver.' Mycroft rolls his eyes

'Couldn't you have stayed three?' He counters. Mycroft steps back allowing Greg to back the car out onto the road. Mary inserts one of the CD into the player and the sounds of an orchestra spill out of the car window to Mycroft's ears. Mycroft waves them off, and closes the front door which Sherlock had forgotten to close.

'Thanks.' Greg shouts from the road.


	45. Chapter 44, Security Matters

**Chapter 44**

**Security Matters**

The next morning Mycroft rings the front door bell of the Lestrade household; he waits for a few moments. He glances over his shoulder at the black car waiting for him. He knocks again harder. 'Sir?' Anthea calls from the open window. 'We can call him to let him know.'

'Yes, thank you Anthea. I would rather tell them myself.'

'We have to come back later. You can not be late for this meeting, sir.'

'Five more minutes.' He replies curtly. The long suffering assistant sighs but closes the window knowing that he would be obstinate and wait there for as long as possible. He knocks for a final time and is rewarded with the sound of footsteps descending the stairs. A bleary eyed Greg opens the door and stares out at Mycroft.

'Oh hi. I thought someone was at the door.' Mycroft grimaces.

'Sorry about waking you, but I have the results back on the blood tests.' Greg perks up as he hears that.

'Good news?'

'We're not sure.' Mycroft says carefully.

'Not sure?' Greg repeats.

'Would you be able to come into the office at…' Mycroft glances at the clock in the hallway. 'At one?'

'Probably yeah.' Greg massages his temples and thinks.

'Rough night?'

'Something like that, believe it or not, I didn't actually have any alcohol with dinner last night.' Mycroft chuckles.

'Did Sherlock neglect to mention that it was music night at Angelo's?'

'And that the music was played by a brass band. The kids had a great time with it. Not my cup of tea nor Mary's.'

'Would you have said no if you had known?'

'Yes, no, hell I don't know.' Greg runs his hands through his hair. 'Jesus, if he's this manipulative now what he going to be like as a teenager?'

'Welcome to my world.' Mycroft glances back at the car. 'I have to attend an important meeting but I felt that I should tell you that we had the results back.' Mycroft retrieves a sheaf of papers from his briefcase and hands them to Greg. 'If you don't understand them I think John will be able to decipher them for you.'

'Yeah, thanks Mycroft. Thanks for taking the time out.'

'It's the least I can do.' Mycroft turns to walk back to the car but looks back at Greg. 'Could you ask Sherlock and John if they have solved the case?'

'Will do. I'll let you know when we meet up.'

'Thank you.' Mycroft turns properly this time and saunters back down the drive much to Anthea's dismay. 'Get some rest Greg.' He calls back over his shoulder.

'Yeah, that'll be the day.' Mycroft hears the door close as he climbs into the car. Anthea glares at him but Mycroft just smiles pleasantly back.

One o'clock finds Mycroft sitting in one of the armchairs awaiting Greg's arrival in the office. The detective inspector arrives twenty minutes late and flustered. 'Sorry I'm late Mycroft.'

'You couldn't get away from the two geniuses?'

'Every time I tried one of them would appear and block the front door.' Greg sighs and rubs his eyes. 'It took John to persuade Sherlock out of the house and Mary to completely distract Jim and allow me to escape.'

'Has John seen the papers?' Greg nods

'Yeah, I think he understands what's going on.' Mycroft raises his eyebrows. 'He said that as they grew as they slept and subsequently when they were kept in the dark, but when the door opened at light flooded the room the growing must have stopped.'

'They think the darkness stimulates the growth?' Mycroft asks carefully.

'Not sure, Sherlock muttered something about a theory in progress, hang on.' Greg delves his hand into his coat pocket and retrieves his phone. He accesses various menus to look for the recordings he had made of Sherlock's deductions. 'I made a recording. I don't remember all the information otherwise.' Greg finds the right one and plays it. Sherlock's voice emits from the speakers. Mycroft frowns at the slightly different voice interjecting every so often.

'Interesting. _What is?_ The speed of growth. _This body is eight_. Much better than the three-year-old body. That was tedious. _Sedation then five years worth of growth in? _Five hours, thirty-five minutes and twenty seconds exactly after you finished consuming the juice. _So?_ Please, you are me. You do know. Just think. _We aged a year every one hour, seven minutes and four seconds. _Then? _Then it stopped. We're back to aging normally. Why? _The door was opened while you and he were asleep, meaning exterior light did not hit your retinas. But it was shut again before you woke. However the door was opened again after you came to in a dark room. Therefore the exterior light halted your development. Theory in progress. _It will do for now._'

'When was this recorded?'

'Last night. After dinner all the boys fell asleep on the journey home. We woke John and Sherlock only slightly but enough to guide them to bed. John mumbled indistinct things and Sherlock said this.'

'It was just him?'

'Yeah, I think it's grown Sherlock interacting with in this case the eight year old. Clarifying things.'

'Could be. You said he was half asleep?'

'Yes. He wasn't very alert.'

'Did you ask about the theft?'

'Apart from and I quote "it's blindingly obvious even a monkey could work it out."' Greg smirks. 'John gave him a clip around the ear for that.' Mycroft grins. 'Sherlock said that the thief was let in by the technicians unwittingly.'

'But they were both in a meeting with me.' Mycroft interrupts. Greg gives him a look that has previously made Sherlock stop ranting and listen; he turns the full force of it onto Mycroft. 'Apologies.'

'I repeat, Sherlock said that the thief was let in by the technicians unwittingly. _Before _you had the meeting with them. There was two hours when the thief could look around completely undisturbed and be out before the technicians got back.'

'It would have been more like three hours. The meeting ran over.'

'Anyway, Sherlock said the thief relied on human nature. And had counted on them being so embarrassed as not to tell you. He also said that it would be smarter to make getting in easy but getting out being the near impossible part.' Mycroft frowns.

'In essence he's right about that. But implementing it is a completely different matter.'

'Not necessarily, if someone is in the lab then the security could be minimal but when they leave stricter measures could come into play.' Greg pauses. 'Which reminds me. Jim and Sherlock have now beefed up the security on my home. Around tenfold.'

'Working together?'

'Working together.' Greg confirms. 'And well, do you really think Sherlock would have gone if he'd known where I was coming?'

'No.'

'Well I did sort of say he and John, with the help of Donovan and a couple of other officers, that he could implement a strategy to catch the thief.' Mycroft bursts out laughing. Greg joins in.

'I bet he ran out of the house then.' Mycroft manages to get out, wiping a couple of tears from his eyes.

'Pretty much.'


	46. Chapter 45, Chasing Thieves

**Chapter 45**

**Catching Thieves**

Sherlock and Donovan stand at the head of a table of a briefing room. In front of them sit John, Parker, a subordinate of Anderson (but who is much easier to work with), and four other police officers. Behind them is a white board with a projector aimed at it. The forensic technician raises his hand cautiously. Donovan indicates him to speak. 'At the risk of sounding pompous and completely out of touch, why isn't Anderson here?'

'Did you hear what happened to other day?' Donovan asks. The guy shakes his head

'Anderson had a couple of practical jokes played on him.'

'With light filters,' Parker interrupts

'Glue under the desk' John adds

'Bolts loosened under his chair.' Donovan interjects

'The chair pulled out from under him.' Sherlock smirks

'Fake stationary and vanishing ink.' John finishes. 'All because he pushed me into a lift and hit Sherlock. Simple easy and clean revenge.'

'Right.'

'Now we've cleared that up let's go onto the plan of action. Sherlock?'

'This is the man we're after, Thomas Stanton-Coarsely. He lives at 234 Harrington Gardens, here.' He clicks to change the image on the screen. 'John, Donovan and I have recced it already and we discovered that both John and I are able to get into a couple blind spots. Here and here.' Sherlock points them out. 'Once inside I will disable the alarm systems and let you in. John, in the meantime, will begin to establish where Stanton-Coarsely is. Our objective is to find a recipe of a chemical that is being developed by the Government but which has not been perfected.' John snorts. Parker and another officer raise their hands, but Sherlock pre-empts the questions. 'We are not able to tell you what exactly the chemical is but-'

'We aren't allowed to know but two eight-year-olds are? I'm not going to believe that am I?' Sherlock scowls at the officer who interrupted.

'John and I aren't just any eight-year-olds. We have come into contact with the afore-mentioned chemical and have regressed firstly into three year olds and now we're eight. We still have our full adult minds mostly.

'Shut up Sherlock.' John interrupts before he can erupt into a full-scale rant about how ineffective and ludicrous "stupid" people can be. 'As Sherlock says we will be the ones who will enter the premises and disable considerable security. And before you ask we are involving the police force as a _ measure. WE were asked to investigate but we were regressed. Sherlock and I have full backing from the current government to use whatever measures we deem necessary. This means Sherlock and I are senior to all of you even if we are currently junior in age.' Everyone around the table laughs gently.

'Right,' Donovan claps her hands to get the attention back to her and Sherlock. 'We need to get this guy before he can pass it on to anyone else or before he can start to create the chemical.'

'How dangerous is it?' Parker asks

'Only a small amount splashed onto Sherlock and mine skin and it took us around twelve hours to regress.'

'Give or take, we were unconscious when it happened.' Sherlock confirms.

'If it is swallowed then the transformation takes about three hours and the consumer is unconscious immediately and their memory is effectively wiped clean.'

'Lets get this guy before this chemical can get into the water supply. Parker, you are taking the first car with Sherlock and John, park as close as you can get to the front of the house. You will be disguised as mother and sons.'

'Hence the plain clothes.' Parker comments sarcastically.

'Obviously.' Sherlock drawls.

'If I'm to pretend he's my son does that means I get to discipline him?' she asks cheekily. Sherlock scowls at her. John smirks as he rises and moves to stand next to Sherlock. Sherlock tenses but relaxes when the blonde boy doesn't do anything. Then he strikes clipping around the ear.

'Remember, Uncle Greg needs us, and that means you, to be polite and not facetious.'

'Boring.'

'Deal with it.'

'Tietjens and Smith, you are with me and we'll enter the house after the security is disabled. Parker, when the boys are disabling security you come and find us.'

'And leave them on their own?'

'We're thirty-eight and thirty-two respectively. We just happen to be residing in eight-year-old bodies.' Sherlock snaps. 'I do hope John will be getting a gun. He is ex-army after all.'

'All ready got one. One of Mycroft's lackeys will be shelling out to get a replacement.'

'I do believe you had a royal order to stop that.' Donovan says. Sherlock snorts.

'Mycroft's flunkies don't count. Half of them are so stupid they deserve to be pickpocketed.'

'Especially if they had already pickpocketed a consulting detective ensconced in a eight year old body.' John withdraws Sherlock's set of lock picks.

'My lock picks.' He exclaims. 'Which one nicked them?'

'I'll point him out later.' The boys share a knowing look.

'Lets go.' Donovan says. The three who were sitting stand and follow Sherlock, John and Donovan out of the briefing room.

Sherlock and John pull up outside the house in an unmarked patrol car driven by Parker. She gets out but the boys have to wait because the child locks are engaged. As she opens the door onto the pavement Sherlock tumbles out. 'Why are they engaged? Don't you trust us?' he demands.

'If you keep acting like that, they will stay engaged Jonathon. I thought that would be obvious.' John climbs out and stretches to hide the fact that he is looking at the house just down the street.

'We are parked two streets away.' Donovan's voice speaks into their ears. 'Just head the way Sherlock is facing.' Parker looks up and down the street looking every inch a tired and haggard mother.

'Right this way, Tim take my hand.' John complies. Sherlock wanders away to avoid the unwanted contact. 'Jonathon, you two.' Sherlock looks back over his shoulder and scowls. John raises his eyebrows making Sherlock saunter back and takes Parker's other hand. 'Thank you.' The three of them walk down the street until they can find some decent cover for the boys to make their approach to the front door and Parker can continue without rousing suspicion from the occupants of the house. Luckily for the boys, they find the perfect piece of hedging only a few metres away from the target's house. Sherlock and John jump a fence and creep up to the house to a window Sherlock had previously identified as the easiest point to make an entry. Sherlock slips the bolt on the window.

'Five minutes to get to the front door and disable the alarm.' John whispers. Sherlock nods and scrambles up the wall holding onto the top of the lower pane. His feet struggle to find a purchase on the wall but he manages to pull himself up and into the house. John quickly follows, this time much more elegantly and quicker than his taller counterpart. Sherlock scowls but John gestures for him to lead the way. 'Got your gun?' Sherlock asks to shut him up

'Got your picks and decoding equipment?' John retorts.

'Of course, you didn't even need to ask.'

'Same to you.' John smirks and follows Sherlock to the front door. 'Disable the internal ones first.'

'Why should I?'

'Parker with us.' Donovan's voice stops John reply. 'Sherlock do as John says.' John smirks smugly at his younger.

'Understood.' John speaks into his mouthpiece. Sherlock stays silent until John sighs and nudges him.

'Understood. Out.' The boys can hear the officers chuckling over the airwaves, they both roll their eyes and Sherlock quickly disables the interior alarms, 'Internal disarmed.' John nods and slips along the corridor into the room at the end. He reappears moments later and disappears into the next room. He checks all the rooms on the ground floor.

'Floor one clear. Checking floor minus one.' Sherlock nods.

'Understood.' Donovan's voice says. 'Good Job, keep going.' John disappears through a door and Sherlock moves to stand guard at the bottom of the stairs.

'Floor minus one clear. Coming up.' John swiftly joins Sherlock at the bottom of the stairs. 'Heading to floor two.' It takes John five minutes to establish where Stanton-Coarsely is situated sleeping off some sort of drug induced high. 'Target in back bedroom. Repeat target in back bedroom.'

'Understood. Security off?' Donovan asks.

'Two minutes.' Sherlock says.

'We're on the move.' John creeps back up the stairs, testing each one before committing his weight and avoiding the two of them that creak. 'Other rooms clear?'

'Confirmed. Only Target in residence.' A beep quiet beep announces that the complete alarm system is offline. Sherlock opens the door careful not to smudge any prints that might be on the handle, or leave any of his own. After making sure that the officer can get into the building easily he follows John up the stairs and enters a different room. John stations himself at the door to Stanton-Coarsely's room keeping an eye on both his younger half-brother and the target. A hiss of satisfaction floats out of the room Sherlock had entered, moments before Sherlock himself reappears.

'Found it. Front bedroom, chest of drawers second drawer.'

'Confirmed. Coming in.'

'Target stirring, repeat target stirring.' John whispers urgently.

'Get back down here.' Donovan hisses. The boys make their way swiftly down the to door. 'Wait with the cars.' The boys frown but do as they are told. Donovan and Parker ascend the stairs making sure they hit the creaking ones. Stanton-Coarsely bursts out of this room, still clearly coming down from his high. 'Police, stay where you are and keep your hands visible.' Stunned Stanton-Coarsely obeys as Donovan keeps her gun pointed at him. 'Is there anyone else in this house?' The overwhelmed man slowly shakes his head. 'Parker, cuff him.'

'Wha-what ch-charge?' He manages to stammer now completely sober.

'Possession of Class A drugs, suspicion of theft from a government building.'

'Possession with intent.' Tietjens adds coming out of a downstairs room. 'Enough cocaine to supply three or four dealers here.'

'Tietjens check up here.'

'Yes ma'am.' Tietjens walks up the stairs and edges past Donovan, Parker and Stanton-Coarsely to search the first floor of the house. He walks into the room where Sherlock had found the governmental document. 'Sergeant. I think I've found it.' Donovan steps around Parker and Stanton-Coarsely and walks into the room. Seconds later she walks back out carrying the recipe. Thomas Stanton-Coarsely's face drains of all colour.

'You, you c-can't t-take th-that.'

'Why can't I?' Donovan asks. 'This is a police raid.'

'I-it's n-not m-mine.'

'Do you own this house?' Stanton-Coarsely nods. 'This had been found in your house and unless you can prove otherwise it will be assumed that you have the sole possession. Can you?' The captive criminal shakes his head. 'Thought not.' Tietjens sticks his head out of the room.

'Hey Parker, your boys are getting rather bored.'

'Parker, take Stanton-Coarsely to the station. Smith will go you. I'll bring the boys back when we're finished here.' Parker nods and guides the thief down from the top of the stairs and out of the house.

'Smith, you're coming with me.' Donovan and Tietjens hear as they wait for the boys to come up. Minutes later, the boys run into the house. 'Tim, Jonathon, make sure you don't touch anything.' Parker shouts to keep up the pretence of the boys being her sons.

'Yes mum.' John shouts back before rolling his eyes.

'Don't be cheeky.' Donovan chides gently.

'Yeah whatever.' John murmurs. 'Have you got the recipe?' Tietjens gently waves it and Sherlock bounds up the stairs to seize it off him. 'We need to get it to Mycroft.'

**_A/N:- Spot the Parade's End and Benedict references_**


	47. Chapter 46, Lies& Truth

**Chapter 46**

**Lies& Truths**

Sherlock and John burst into Mycroft's office with Sherlock clutching the paper on which the recipe had been inscribed. They trip each other onto the floor laughing heavily. 'Did you see his face when he saw us?' John giggles.

'Classic. He did not expect us to be there.'

'He thought it was all over.'

'It is now.' Sherlock finished still giggling.

'Did you two have fun then?' Mycroft asks stopping their giggles.

'Obviously.' Sherlock drawls. He moves the recipe behind his back 'When were you going to tell me John is my brother?'

'How do you know this?'

'I told them.' Greg gives him a look warning him not to take it too far. 'After John had a nightmare.'

'Uncle Greg. Why did you tell us at night?' John asked curiously.

'Because the pair of you needed comfort and knowledge you had someone to be with.'

'Who is our father?' Sherlock demands.

'Sherlock, he promised not to say.'

'I wasn't asking him.' Greg manages to glare at Mycroft without the boys noticing.

'That, little brothers, I cannot tell you.'

'Why?'

'I do not know.'

'Liar.'

'How am I lying?' Mycroft asks. Sherlock smirks.

'Like I'm going to tell you.'

'Mycroft, do you know?' John's doleful eye bore into Mycroft's. Sherlock and Greg look between them. Greg apprehensively and Sherlock interested. Sherlock glances at Greg and is completely confused by the Detective Inspector's expression. 'Please Mycroft.' John whispers.

'Yes, I know, but like Greg I promised not to say.' John visibly deflates again.

'Liar.' Sherlock repeats.

'How do you know my tells?' Mycroft enquires. Sherlock glared at him.

'You normally have no problems breaking promises.'

'I keep them if they're about family.' Sherlock snorts. He waves the recipe tantalisingly.

'If you want this, you'll tell me.'

'You'll give it to me regardless Sherlock.'

'Does Mummy know?'

'Of course she knows who your father is.' Sherlock rolls his eyes.

'Does she know I know father isn't my father?'

'I don't know if she knows or not. I will be conversing with her later on today.' Sherlock scowls at his elder brother. Suddenly he decides to utilise his tactics from his three-year-old self. He creeps up onto his brother's lap after placing the recipe on Mycroft's desk.

'Please tell me Mycroft.' Sherlock makes his eyes fill with tears. Mycroft envelops Sherlock.

'Nice try. I'm not going fall for your tricks.' John climbs onto the arm of Greg's chair and leans into him. Greg wraps his arm around the boy. Sherlock watches the two of them and things begin to click into place but not enough for the full picture to emerge. 'Am I able to return the recipe to the lab?' Mycroft enquires. Sherlock shrugs and nods.

'Please tell me.' He whispers. He feels Mycroft smiles into his curls.

'You're already working it out, Sherlock. Just let the picture come to you, like I taught you.' Mycroft murmurs into the raven curls.

Greg rises from his seated position dislodging John from his perch on the arm of the chair. The DI picks him up and gives him a piggyback to the office door. 'Coming Sherlock?' Greg holds his hand out for the raven-haired boy to take. Sherlock wriggles off his brother's lap and runs over to blonde pair. Greg wraps his spare arm around the taller boy's shoulders. From his place at the far end of the office, it is completely and totally obvious that he three of them are definitely a family, and a close one at that. 'Nearly worked it out yet?' Mycroft listens to the comments as they walk out of the door. He watches Sherlock stare up at Greg. 'Come on, I do know you quite well. I can tell when you're working something out.'

'I'm nearly there.' Sherlock admits.

'Let me know when you're there won't you?' Sherlock nods into the Greg's chest.

Outside Greg nudges Sherlock forward to hail them a cab so he can slip John from his shoulders without waking the blonde eight year old. Sherlock slides into the taxi that draws up next to them. Greg gets in with slightly more difficulty as he is holding the sleeping boy. The driver watches him in the mirror and merges back into the traffic more cautiously than he would otherwise as soon as the door is closed. 'Your boy a poor sleeper then?'

'What?' Greg asks entranced with John's calm and peaceful features. 'No, he's not my son. He's my nephew and yeah he's often plagued by nightmares.' The driver grimaces sympathetically.

'So where to?' Greg glances at Sherlock and spots him yawning.

'Home.' Sherlock whispers.

'Baker Street, 221B.'

''Kay.' Sherlock blearily looks up at Greg confused.

'You're about to drop Shock. Baker Street's closer.' Sherlock smiles. 'Besides it's home for you isn't it?' Greg wraps his arms back around Sherlock and cuddles him close. The driver glances in the mirror and raises his eyebrow at Greg. 'They don't know. I can't tell them. Yet.' Greg mouths at him. Greg and the driver sit in silence as the taxi winds it's way through London's streets to Baker Street.

'Will you need help?' The driver asks as he parks up. Greg glances at both the sleeping boys.

'Yeah I will.' The driver emerges from the car and walks around the back to open the door next to Greg.

'Shall I take Blondie?'

'For the moment, he's really quite nervous.' The cabbie lifts John from Greg's arms allowing him to climb out. Greg takes John back just as the blonde boy begins to stir. Luckily he settles again quickly and the cabbie draws Sherlock out.

'He's heavy isn't he?'

'Deceptive skinniness, is Shock alright.' Greg laughs as he struggles to fish around for his key. He finds it quickly and lets them in. He leads the cabbie up the stairs and into the flat. Greg points the cabbie to Sherlock's room. 'In there, don't mind the mess.' Greg continues up the stairs to John's room and lays him gently on the bed. Marvelling on how small the boy looks in the adult's bed. Something makes Greg looks closer at John, suddenly it seems that John's clothes look too small. 'Shit' He swears softly. He glances at the door before swiftly removing the clothes from John's rapidly growing body. He tucks under the covers and closes the door before hastily making his way downstairs and finding the cabbie staring at Sherlock.

'Is it me or is he growing?' the cabbie asks very perplexed.

'It isn't you.' Greg steps past him and swiftly removes Sherlock's designer suit from his skinny form and tucks him under his duvet. 'Thank you for your help.' He says ushering the cabbie out of the room. 'How much do I owe you?'

'Tenner. But make it five.'

'Sure?'

'Yeah. Nice to see well behaved kids around the place.' Greg walks into the kitchen and over to a tin he knows John keeps the emergency money in it. He takes a five pound not from it and quickly writing a note to tell John about it when he next goes to it. He hands the note over the cabbie with a couple of coins as a tip. The man takes it.

'Cheers.' He says before disappearing back downstairs to the street. Greg wanders over to the windows overlooking the street and watching as he climbs into the cab and drives off. Greg sighs and sits down for a very long wait. Out of the corner of his eye he spots John's and Sherlock's dressing gowns lying on the sofa. He picks them up and delivers them to the respective owner's bedroom.

Seven hours later John emerges from upstairs wearing his dressing gown, yawning still. Greg doesn't hear him until the now teenager flops down on the sofa next to him. The two glance at each other. 'How are you feeling?' Greg asks lowering the volume on the TV.

'Tired.' John mumbles.

'How old are you?'

'At a guess, thirteen.'

'When did your voice break first time?'

'Fifteen. Why?'

'You sound more like your normal self.' John yawns and snuggles close into the detective inspector. 'Were you this snuggly first time round.' John shakes his head.

'It's just with you.' He mutters. Sherlock materialises from his room. 'Hey Lock.' Sherlock flops into his armchair.

'Sherlock.'

'I'm fifteen.' He mutters.

'And here's the Sherlock we all know and love.'

'Why don't you have kids Lestrade?' Sherlock asks abruptly. Greg glares daggers at him. 'Oh, come on there must be a reason.' John looks up at Greg's irate expression.

'Lock, not now.'

'But-'

'Please.' Greg whispers. 'Just don't go there.'

'I know Mary can't conceive and that Diane also can't.' Sherlock continues regardless.

'Sherlock.' John all but shouts. 'Leave it.'

'I can't. It's puzzle I have to solve.' Sherlock retorts. 'There's adoption and fostering.'

'Do you really think that they would let me adopt or foster with the ridiculous hours I work?' Greg manages to speak normally.

'They have with other DI's.' Greg breathes deeply before brusquely standing and striding up the stairs and slamming the door to John's room behind him.

'Well done Sherlock.' John snarls.

'Don't you see John?' Sherlock gestures to the mirror.

'It's a mirror what about it?' John snaps. Sherlock growls in frustration.

'Look at yourself.' John reluctantly focuses. 'Remember, before we regressed, we had to drop him back home and we saw an album on the kitchen table. It was open at a picture of him as a teenager. John stares at his reflection.

'It looked a bit like I do now.'

'Exactly. And if he's your father?'

'Then he's yours.' John finishes quietly. A muffled sound reaches John's ears and he presses a finger to his lips. 'Sh. It's him crying.' Sherlock starts to go upstairs but John stops him. 'I'll go, there were better ways to approach it Sherlock.' John makes his way upstairs to his room. 'Can I come in Greg?' Sherlock watches from to the bottom of the stairs. 'Only I need to some clothes.'

'Yeah.' Greg voice sound's strained. John ignores Sherlock's gesturing and enters his room. 'He's worked it out hasn't he?' John nods and joins him on the floor.

'Is it true?' Greg nods.

'Yeah.' He vocalises the movement. 'I didn't know until you both regressed and your mother was killed. I didn't know about him until I met his mother again.' John puts his arms around Greg and comforts him.

'Sherlock is a prick isn't he?' He murmurs. Greg laughs.

'Yes, he's that alright.'

'You wanted to wait until you thought we were ready didn't you?' Greg nods.

'I guess you are now.'

'And the stuff you said that night?'

'Its all true is it not?' John sniggers.

'I'll give you that one.' The blonde teenager pauses. 'You know what?' Greg shakes his head. 'I think I've known subconsciously since the first time I met you. All it's been is confirmed.' Greg hugs him back.

'And I get to call you my son.' John pulls back.

'Does Mary know?'

'Mary knows, as does Molly, Mycroft, Scarlett, Sally.' Greg grimaces. 'Jim knows and I'm not sure about Dom.'

'Anderson?' Greg pulls an expression of disgust.

'Haven't told him. Don't care to either.' The pair of them burst out laughing and misses the sounds of Sherlock creeping up the stairs and opening the door to peek in.


	48. Chapter 47, Fatherhood Begins

**Chapter 47**

**Fatherhood Begins**

Sherlock sneaks under the arm that Greg hasn't wrapped around his elder son. 'I'm sorry.' He whispers. 'I had to know and you weren't going to tell us.' Greg cuddles him closer.

'As soon as I knew, I wanted to tell you.' Greg whispers to the boys. 'But you were too young. Then you were kidnapped and I wasn't ready to tell you.' Greg swallows thickly. 'Everything was just happening too fast.'

'Are you happy that we know?' John whispers not wanting to extinguish the fragile situation. Greg nods, rubbing his cheek against John's sandy hair. After a couple of moments, Greg disentangles himself from his sons and stands up. Sherlock pouts and whines.

'But I was comfy.' Greg smiles and shakes his head.

'That's the Sherlock I know and love.' Greg says ruffling the raven curls.

'Gerrof.' Sherlock ducks his head away.

'What are we going to do about clothes? We can't stay in dressing gowns until we're grown.' John asks. Greg smiles secretly.

'We don't have to. Dad has already sorted it all out.' Greg freezes as Sherlock speaks the word 'Dad' but relaxes at how natural it sounds from Sherlock's mouth. Sherlock watches him. 'You have, haven't you?' He asks desperately. A knock at the street door of the flat answers the question. Greg withdraws a ten-pound note from his pocket.

'Guess who that is, and it isn't Mycroft.' Sherlock immediately starts pondering.

'Aunt Mary and Sally.' John says confidently, Sherlock sneers at him.

'Can't be.'

'Your turn to guess, Sherlock.' Greg jokes.

'I never guess.' Sherlock replies seriously. 'Donovan and my Mother.' He answers finally.

'You have to be exact.' Greg warns. 'One of you go down and open the damn door.' Greg says as he leaves the room.

'Where are you going?'

'To make tea, both sorts.'

'Not hungry.' Sherlock shouts. 'Aren't you going to answer to door?' He asks John.

'You lazy bugger.' John says as he stands and makes his way to the door.

'Make sure your gown is tied up.' Sherlock shouts after him.

'Sherlock, behave properly.' Greg's voice floats up the stairs. Sherlock listens to the sounds of Greg moving around the kitchen and John makes his way down to the street door. Sherlock smirks when he hears Sally speak at the front door.

'Hey Sherlock, you've just lost.' John shouts up the stairs. Sherlock bounds out of the room and down the stairs.

'I haven't.' He breathes as he descends.

'You have.' Greg confirms. Mary makes her way up to the flat. Sherlock pouts in frustration.

'Not fair.' He whines. 'Only because he answered first.'

'Sherlock leave it.' Greg demands. Sherlock shuts up but glowers at him. 'Not going to work on me.'

'Aunt Mary, have a seat.' John says politely. 'You too Sally.' Sally hands John the bags she is carrying.

'Your clothes John.' he takes them.

'Thanks.' He says before disappearing up the stairs to his bedroom. Sherlock, on the other hand, snatches the suits carriers out Mary's hands. Greg blocks his way to his bedroom. Sherlock stares at him.

'Apologise.' Sherlock raises his eyebrows. 'Apologise to Mary… Now.'

'Why?'

'You could have waited. But you didn't and nearly torn the skin of her hands.'

'I didn't.'

'That's not the point.'

'But Daaad.' Oblivious to the men Sally and Mary raise their eyebrows.

'Apologise now.'

'Sorry Mary.' Sherlock mumbles. Mary tries to hide her mirth.

'That's okay Sherlock.' She says. Greg steps aside and Sherlock disappears into his room. The two women look inquisitively at Greg.

'What?' Sally stares at Greg.

'Dad?' she asks. Greg shrugs.

'He worked it out and in typical Sherlock style shouted out his deductions without thinking. So yeah, it's out in the open to those who need to know.'

'How you feeling?' Mary asks. Greg shrugs.

'Not that much different.' He glances over his shoulder at the door to Sherlock's bedroom. 'To be honest, I don't think he even knows he's saying it.'

'He doesn't.' John says re-entering the living room. 'But it's natural for the both of us.' John perches himself on the arm of the sofa next to Mary. 'Dad, you do know he's going to be a lot more annoying now right?'

'More annoying than he is usually? I think I will be able to cope.' Sherlock emerges from his bedroom and immediately leaves the flat. Sally raises her eyebrows at his antics. Greg looks to the clock and counts the seconds. Sherlock re-enters the flat and stamps up the seventeen steps to the flat.

'Where's my wallet? And my phone?' John tries to contain his smirk. He knows that Greg had pickpocketed both of them while they were still eight years old and in Mycroft's office; after all it takes a thief to know a thief. Sherlock turns on him. 'Where's yours?' John shrugs.

'I dunno. Haven't seen since we regressed. I hope Dad and Mycroft are keeping them safe.' Sherlock growls and glares around the room to the obvious amusement of Sally, Greg and Mary. John carefully keeps his face blank but his eyes dance. Sherlock scowls and sweeps himself into his room to sulk.

'Ten seconds longer than I thought it would take.' Greg comments quietly. Sally snorts.

'Not a spoiled brat at all.' She comments. Greg points a wooden spoon at her warningly.

'That's my son you're talking about, just keep that in mind.'

'I didn't mean that you were spoiling him. Just that he was spoiled.'

'By his stepfather.' Mary tells her. 'A man who didn't want any daughters, Mycroft was the perfect son therefore Sherlock could be spoiled. I am positive that Greg and John, can helped him to become a better person.' She wraps her arms around her elder stepson.

'Are you going to try to get a family photo?' John asks cheekily. She playfully swots him.

'No. No, I'm not.' John wriggles out of her arms.

'Dad, do you need any help?'

'Clean plates?' Greg asks hopefully. John cast his eye around the kitchen surfaces.

'Sherlock, I think five of your experiments have been ruined.' Sherlock sticks his head out of his room.

'They can't have.' He examines the table and his face becomes completely crestfallen. 'They have. Five weeks work down the drain.'

'And into the bin.' Greg finishes.

'Err, no.'

'Yes, you can restart them _after_ the table has been scrubbed and cleared and we have eaten.' Greg points the wooden spoon at Sherlock. 'You _will_ eat with us.'

'Not hungry.'

'Don't care. Clear the table. John, the plates.' John sensibly does as he is told quietly.

'Do it.' John mouths at Sherlock behind Greg's back. Sherlock scowls at the pair of them but clears the table. John digs out a tablecloth and covers the now empty table with it to hide the stains. Sherlock sets the table without being asked and John helps Greg place the plates in between the cutlery.

'Dinner's ready.' Sally and Mary relocate from then living room to the kitchen.

'Oh look not enough chairs.' Sherlock tries to disappear from the room but Greg clamps his hand down on the teenager's shoulder and guides him into one of the chairs.

'You will sit and stay there.' John takes the seat next to him and walks into the living room to grab hold of one of the straight-backed chairs and carries it into the kitchen. Sherlock scowls and stabs at his food.

'Where's Jim?' John asks suddenly.

'Sophia's babysitting him. He's happy enough.'


	49. Chapter 48, Updating Dom

**Chapter 48**

**Updating Dom**

John walks down the hospital corridor to the private room Mycroft had organised for Dom to be treated. John knocks on the door and surprised when he doesn't hear an answer he peeks into the window. A nurse walks down the corridor towards him. 'Mr Watson is currently in therapy; he'll be back in about ten minutes if you'll care to wait.'

'Thanks you.' John smiles. He opens the door and sits in the comfy chair next to the bed after putting his bag next to the door. He reaches for Dom's favourite book; co-incidentally it is his favourite book as well. He carefully marks Dom's place and begins the read the book from the beginning. John loses track of time as he reads and doesn't notice when Dom and a nurse enters the room.

'I hope you've kept my place.' Dom's voice surprises John.

'Of course I have.' John really looks at Dom and takes in the haggard appearance of his elder brother.

'I know I look a state.' Dom laughs as he settles himself back onto the bed. 'How are you?' John pauses as the nurse fusses around them for a couple of minutes before leaving and shutting the door behind her.

'I'm good. Still getting used to the rapidly ageing thing.'

'You're sixteen?'

'Fifteen.' John stands and looks at Dom's notes. 'You should be out in a couple of days.' He comments looking at the papers. 'Is this all seriously from the kidnap?'

'Yeah, well no.' John raises his eyebrows. 'I had some trauma a few years ago now. I guess the stress of you being kidnapped and Harriet being a jerk exacerbated it and caused me to collapse.'

'Aunt Mary said that she heard the fight between the two of you.'

'How is she?'

'Her ribs are still tender but she doesn't complain. I know Dad worries about her more so when Jim is being a little tyke.' Dom smirks and John stops talking. 'What?'

'Dad?'

'What about it?'

'Who are you calling Dad?'

'Greg.' he laughs. 'Oh, come off it Dominic, I know you know he's my father and that bastard isn't. Sherlock in typical Sherlock fashion deduced it and shouted it out to the world. Or rather the flat where the three of us were.'

'You three being you, Sherlock and Greg.' John nods.

'I had always wondered about Sherlock and Greg, he always seems disappointed when Sherlock does something stupid and proud when he solves a very difficult case but I didn't even dream that he could have been mine as well.'

'I worked it out while Harry was here.'

'Did he make her happy?'

'Greg and mum?' John nods. 'Yeah, he made her live up to her name.'

'She's dead isn't she?' Dom stares at his little brother.

'How did?'

'When I asked Dad who knew about the regression and our family relations, he didn't say anything about mum. I'm no detective but that is telling.' Dom reaches out for his brother. John curls up next to him.

'Where is he?' John shrugs

'Don't know. Wanted to see you on my own.'

'So you snuck out.'

'I didn't sneak, I walked out the flat while Dad and Sherlock were arguing.'

'He's dad already is he?' John nudges his big brother.

'Of course he is.' Dom's phone begins to ring.

'It's Greg. Answer it for me.' John narrows his eyes at Dom, but reaches for the ringing handset.

'Dom's phone.' He switches it to loudspeaker.

'Jesus, John. Scare me why don't you?' Greg voice emits from the speakers. 'You have told me.' John rolls his eyes making Dom smirk.

'I did try to say but you and he were yelling too loudly. And I left a note-'

'Where?'

'On the fridge.'

'Oh. I see it. I'll let you off then.' John and Dom can hear a protest from Sherlock in the background. 'Shut up Sherlock.' John tries to fight a smile from spreading across his face.

'John.' Dom warns.

'What?' He protests.

'Be nice.' Over the phone Greg chuckles.

'John, get your skinny butt back here by lunchtime.' Greg hangs up before John can answer. He pulls a face at the handset.

'Yes boss.' Dom playfully swots him.

'God, you and Mary, and your swotting.' John jests as he darts out of reach.

'Go on, go. He won't be completely happy until he can get his eyes on you.' John picks up his bag.

'I'm protected.' John reveals his service weapon. 'I'll move it to a better place when I leave the building.'

'Be quick.'

'I'm fifteen, Dom, not five. I can look after myself.' With that John sweeps out of the room transferring the gun from the bag to his waistband at the small of his back.

'Famous last words.' Dom mutters as the door swings back. He picks his book up and flicks through to his place just as John sticks his head back in.

'Harry's coming.' Dom suppresses a moan.

'I'm asleep.'

'Yeah, looks like it.' John pulls back out and Dom closes his eyes, keeping his ears open.

'Johnny boy.' Harry's voice filters into the room. Dom cringes. 'How are you? You've shrunk.'

'And you're drunk.' John retorts. ''Scuse me.'

'Oh, where you going?'

'Away from here.' Dom can tell that John is trying to pass his elder sister.

'Maybe I want to catch up?' Dom can feel the loathing in the stare that John is giving Harriet.

'I'm busy Harriet. Maybe some other time.' John speaks politely but for those in the know the icy undertone is abundantly clear. 'My guardian's waiting.'

'Whose he?'

'You wouldn't know him.' Dom eases himself off the bed and pads over to the door snagging his phone on the way. He opens it and peaks out. Harry has her hand on John's bad shoulder to stop him from leaving. Dom quickly and quietly texts Greg to warn him about Harry. John and Harry face each other off in the corridor forcing the nursing staff to walk around them for several minutes.

They stay staring at each other for nearly ten minutes before Mary and Jim walk up behind Harry. 'John, there you are.' Mary's voice diffuses the tension and Harry steps to the side. John quickly makes his way to Jim's side and takes one of the toddler's hands. Jim glares at the woman before reaching up silently asking John to pick him up. Watching from his door Dom smirks and grins at Mary. 'You must be Harriet. I'm Mary, one of John's guardians. My husband, Greg, is the other. It's nice to meet you finally. John why you take Jim and wait in the car?' Mary hands John the keys

'Where is it?'

'Near the main entrance.' John nods and walks away down the corridor carrying Jim. Mary waits for the boys to be out of sight and earshot. 'Come near John again and I'll make sure you go to prison.'

'For what?'

'Accomplice to kidnapping, attempted kidnap and two counts harassment.' Harriet raises an eyebrow.

'How?' she smirks.

'I happen to know an important official in the government who works in security matters. And my husband happens to be a DI in Scotland Yard. Do you really think you should be messing with me? Should you be out of your room?' she addresses her last remark to Dom who had left his room and is now standing not that far from Harriet Watson.

'I get bored.' Dom replies easily. 'Two counts?'

'You, and John. I get the feeling you don't want her here.' Dom smiles impressed.

'You're absolutely correct. I don't, I believe I said eff off last time I saw her.'

'I know, I heard.' Mary turns to go. 'Oh, did he say that a cure is being developed?'

'No he didn't, but that's good news.'

'He'll be back to normal in no time.' Mary turns and strides away down the corridor. Dom disappears back into his room closing the door firmly behind him effectively telling Harriet that she isn't welcome. She lingers in the corridor until Mary is nearly out of sight and she follows the Detective Inspector's wife. Mary realises this quite quickly and changes her route to incorporate some false turns and to leave the hospital by a different exit. Mary darts around a corner near to the exit she had chosen and manages to lose Harriet completely. The female Watson stands near the door and looks around the car park trying and failing to find Mary. Mary, herself, locates her car and drive out of the car park without passing the lost Watson. She and the two boys feel very smug about themselves.

'I don't like her.' Jim says as Mary drives out of the car park.

'Neither do I.' John replies. 'Thanks Mary.' Mary smiles and concentrates on her driving.


	50. Chapter 49, Family Bonds

**_A/N: This is dedicated to my 100th reviewer Raychaell Dionzeros. I got 100 reviews never believed that would happen Thank you very much guys!_**

**Chapter 49**

**Family Bonds**

John re-enters the Baker Street flat with Jim still clinging to him. The teenager smirks slightly as the toddler version of the consulting criminal snuggles into his neck. 'Sherlock will tease you for this.' John whispers. Jim shrugs against him and arranges his features into one of smug satisfaction. John pushes the door to the living room open and Sherlock openly stares at the duo until Greg glares at him.

'Bit clingy there Jim.' Jim sticks his tongue out and John rolls his eyes.

'You were too.' The young detective counters.

'Why didn't I grow?' Jim pipes up suddenly.

'Because you haven't been sedated yet.' Greg says.

'The results confirmed it?' John asks shifting Jim into a more comfortable position on his hip.

'Did Harriet bother you?' Sherlock asks suddenly, his bright curious eyes fixed on his brother. John freezes.

'What do you think?' He snaps back.

'Sherlock, not good.' Greg warns as John lets Jim slip off his hip. The toddler pouts but John ignores it preferring to disappear into his room. Jim toddles over to the stairs and tries to climb them. Greg sweeps him up as Mary enters the flat. 'Leave him be, you little tyke.'

'Leave who be?'

'John. He's still shaken.'

'About Harry?' Greg nods. 'Go up to him, I'll stop these two from killing each other.' Greg smirks as Mary takes the young boy off him. He ascends the stairs and knocks on John's bedroom door.

'John?' He asks softly. 'May I come in?'

'Yeah.' John's voice is muffles through the door. Greg eases the door open and slips through. John sits on the floor with his back to the wardrobe. Greg joins him giving him a little space

'What did she say?'

'It's, it's not what she said exactly. More like what she implied.' Greg stays quiet letting the teenager talk in his own time. 'That Hen… he ordered the attempted kidnapping at the park, and the-' John's voice catches. Greg pulls the blonde teenager onto his lap not caring that pins and needles will develop in his legs.

'He can't hurt you any more.' Greg whispers into his hair. 'I won't let him, Mycroft won't let him, Mary won't let him, Dom won't let him and Jim, Sally and Sherlock won't let him.'

'Doesn't change what he's already done.' John croaks. Greg closes his eyes.

'When I took you for a check up…' He begins. 'When I took you for a check up before you grew the first time you said scars.'

'You want to know why?'

'If you can, when you're ready.'

'After Dom left, he-he often took his frustrations out on Mum and Harry. One time I managed to push Harry out of the way when he threw a bottle at her. It over our heads, I was shorter and she was on the floor. She grazed her knee and never forgave me.' John lets out a bark of laughter. 'She never forgave me for saving her face from being torn to shreds and she'll happily forgive a bastard for beating her.' Greg grimaces. 'After that-'

'After that he hit you.' Greg finishes. John nods not wanting to confirm it vocally.

'Nine till fourteen. When I punched him back and said if he ever did it again I would kill him.' Greg snorts. 'It was about that time I discovered the Army as a career potential, and doctoring.'

'I'm sorry.' John shifts himself off Greg's lap and leans into his shoulder.

'What for?'

'Not being there.' John shifts into a kneeling position the forces Greg to look at him.

'You didn't know I existed. How is it your fault?' Greg doesn't answer. 'I always felt that I belonged elsewhere.'

'And you were right.'

'I belong in the right here and now. Henry Watson senior is my past and is staying my past. You and Sherlock are my present and future.' John pulls a sour face. 'That sounds really clichéd.' Greg laughs softly at John final comment.

'It may be clichéd, but it's true.'

'When I really needed you, you were here.' John whispers. He yawns a jaw-breaking yawn and crawls up onto his bed. 'I think the growth spurts are catching up with me.'

'That and the stress of your familial situation and your nightmares.' Greg pulls himself to his feet. 'If you need to sleep, sleep. I'll make sure either Mary, Sherlock or myself will stay near by. Just in case.' Greg adds to John's raised eyebrow. The teenager nods and snuggles under the covers fully clothed. Greg opens his mouth to say something but closes it as soon as he sees John fast asleep. He tucks his son in and heads back downstairs closing the door behind him. 'He's asleep.' He points at his other son. 'Sherlock, when he wakes you _will_ apologise, no arguments.' Greg's tone brooks no arguments Sherlock nods reluctantly. 'How are you feeling?'

'Fine.' Sherlock shrugs. 'Why wouldn't I?'

'John's feeling the effects of the growth spurts.'

'Does he want someone nearby?'

'Not particularly, but I said someone will be in case of nightmares.'

'He's fifteen, he can look after himself.' Sherlock drawls.

'Says the man who really struggled with his withdrawals after saying he can handle them.' Sherlock has the grace to look sheepish. 'I was there for you. I'm going to be here for him.'

'Harriet knows about the kidnappings.' Jim says suddenly. 'They're planning something.'

'Jim what are you talking about.' Jim runs over to Sherlock and starts poking him.

'They knew he was at the hospital. She was meant to delay him so they take him again. They don't want you.' Greg scoops Jim up before Sherlock can take a swipe at the boy.

'That will do young man.' The Detective Inspector tells the small consulting criminal.

'How could you tell?' Mary asks from the kitchen.

'She was wearing an earpiece and she was clearly waiting for something or someone.'

'She did follow me.'

'Right, we do not let John go anywhere on his own, until the pair of you are at least twenty. And we tell your brother.' Sherlock scowls.

'We don't need to involve the fat bastard.'

'Sherlock!' Mary rebukes. 'He is your brother.'

'Then he never should have left when I needed him. It's his fault I got into drugs, he could have stopped me.' Sherlock stands and makes to leave but Greg blocks his way.

'Sit down and shut up.' Sherlock stops and does as he is told. 'What's done is done.'

'You can't know what happened.'

'But I do.'

'Mycroft told you.'

'Actually, no. You did.' Sherlock snorts. 'But you weren't lucid at the time. You told me every insult and every derogatory term you have been called up to that point. So shut up and stay sitting.' Greg softens his voice. 'Everything you repeated broke my heart and I understood a lot more about you.' Sherlock glares at them. 'Why do you think I've always cared about what's happened to you. Why I always try to find interesting cold cases for you to solve when danger nights threaten. Sometimes for a genius you can be completely stupid.' Greg presses his forehead to Sherlock's. 'And it's a good thing that we wouldn't change you for the world, except maybe to make you a little more easier to live with.'

'Sherlock, stay nearby. They might want you as well.' Mary says. 'Promise me you will.' Sherlock nods.

'I promise.' He swallows thickly. 'I promise.' He repeats. Greg smiles as he hears a true promise fall from Sherlock's lips. A promise that will be kept.


	51. Chapter 50, Potential Partners

**Chapter 50**

**Potential Partners**

Mycroft sits in his office reading his copy of the results from the blood tests for the umpteenth time. He lays the papers down and rubs his eyes when his phone beeps indicating a text message arriving. He gladly reaches for his phone relieved at the interruption. _Warning! Sherlock is fifteen. _Mycroft groans, maybe it wasn't such a good interruption after all. He clears his mind before composing a reply. _To make sure he eats make al dente pasta and cover it in basil pesto. It's all he ate._ Mycroft lays down his phone and runs his hand through his hair. It doesn't take long for a reply to come in. _Seriously?! Duly noted. Btw, John bumped into Harry at hospital. He's shaken and asleep._ Mycroft's eyes widen. _Harry went to the hospital. HOW COULD WE MISS THAT! _Mycroft groans _Up surveillance on Dom?_ Mycroft rolls his eyes at the obvious facetiousness of the message. He presses a button on an intercom to one side of the desk. 'Anthea, upgrade surveillance on Henry Dominic Watson, Grade 2 active. Send someone to look after him during the rest of his stay in hospital.'

'Yes sir.' Anthea's voice filters through the speaker. The British Government picks up on the disguises weariness in her voice.

'How long have you been on duty?' He enquires softly.

'Err, about 76 hours.' Mycroft's eyes bulge.

'Go home and get some rest, Anthea. I will not need assistance for the rest of the day. Come back tomorrow rested and relaxed.'

'If you're sure sir.'

'Get some sleep.' Being a member of the Holmes family, Mycroft can last a long time on next to sleep. But he is well aware that others need their rest.

'Yes sir.' Anthea turns her side of the intercom off as she leaves her desk to get some rest. His phone beeps. _And before I forget, Sally Donovan will be over soon enough with Parker and Tietjens escorting the thief of your recipe._ Mycroft smiles as he reads the message from Greg. He quickly replies. _Good to know, ETA?_ It doesn't take long for Greg to reply. _How on earth am I supposed to know? Ask her!_ Mycroft frowns. _I thought you were her boss. _Mycroft chuckles at the flippancy of his message. _Touché. I'm on holiday leave. I'm completely failing to stay away from work. Mary swears I'm as bad as you and Sherlock. I'm sure you can get her number… being the British government and all that. _

'Good old Greg, always has a sense of humour.' Mycroft murmurs just as a knock sounds on the outer door. Mycroft rises from his seat and wanders over to the door to Anthea's office. He walks though and opens the connecting door. He steps though and opens the door leading from Anthea's office to the corridor. 'Hello Sally.'

'Shouldn't Anthea be opening this door. I might have been an assassin.' Sally jokes. Mycroft looks past her at Parker, Tietjens and Stanton-Coarsely between them, struggling to get them to loosen their grips. Mycroft smiles tightly at the joke as fixes his gaze at the struggling criminal. 'Seeing as we were assisting on an operation sanctioned by the government. We thought you might want to deal with the outcome.'

'I knew you were coming.' Mycroft replies simply. 'And if you were an assassin, you wouldn't have got this far.' Mycroft beckons them in.

'What about him.' Mycroft deviates from his course towards his office to his assistant's desk and picks up the internal phone.

'Could you ask security to come to Mr Holmes' office please?' Mycroft speaks into the mouthpiece imitating the voice of Anthea's part time secretary. Sally stares at Mycroft.

'That is spooky.' Mycroft flashes her a smiles and leads them into his office. Sally waits for Parker and Tietjens to manoeuvre Stanton-Coarsely into the office in front of her. She closes the door behind her as she walks in. 'How are you, Mycroft?'

'They've grown again.' Sally raises her eyebrows.

'And now?' She asks.

'Fifteen. They know.' For a moment, confusion clouds Sally's expression.

'They know wha- oh, right yeah.' Sally says. 'That's good isn't it?'

'Sherlock.' Mycroft states.

'Blunt and untactful?'

'Apparently, yes.' Mycroft shifts his focus from Sally to the thief. 'Thomas Stanton-Coarsely.'

'Mycroft.' He replies guardedly.

'You know each other.'

'Acquaintances.'

'From school, you never did abide by the rules.'

'Rules are meant to be broken.'

'Are they?' A knock at the door stops Stanton-Coarsely from answering. 'Enter.' The door opens and three burly security men walk over the threshold to the office. The lead security officer glances around the room and his gaze lands on Thomas Stanton-Coarsely. 'Take Mr Stanton-Coarsely to the secure holding area. Guard Area 1.'

'Yes sir.' Stanton-Coarsely glares at Mycroft as the other two security personnel take the control of his arms from Parker and Tietjens and frogmarching him form the room. The lead official salutes Mycroft before retreating and closing the door behind the four of them. Tietjens raises a single eyebrow.

'Former member of the armed forces.' Mycroft says as the only explanation. Sally huffs a little laugh as the door reopens and the official re-enters the office.

'If you don't mind my asking Mr Holmes, but are you the official who knows Captain John Watson?' Mycroft raises his eyebrows. 'Of the fifth Northumberland fusiliers.' Unseen by the security officer, Sally smiles.

'I might be.'

'Mr Holmes?'

'Yes Heivan, I am.' Security Officer Heivan retrieves an envelope from his lapel pocket.

'This needs to be given to him as soon as possible.'

'Does it now?' Mycroft accepts the envelope and examines it from every angle possible. 'Why?'

'TC needs it.'

'Are you a shiner too?' Sally asks drawing Heivan's attention from Mycroft.

'Yes, I served with him in his first tour in Afghanistan. His first, my last.'

'Mycroft.' She snaps. 'Don't open it.' Mycroft had been using the cover to look closer at the envelope. He manages to maintain a look of innocence on his face. Heivan, Parker and Tietjens look between the two. 'Greg and John will kill you if you look in that.' Mycroft grimaces. 'And you know Sherlock will help them hide your body.'

'Donovan and I will make sure that it will get to Captain Watson.'

'Thank you, Mr Holmes.' Heivan retreats from the office. Parker and Tietjens look to Sally to follow her lead.

'Go back to the yard.' She says without looking at them. 'I'll meet you there.' Sally waits for the two officers to head back to the yard. 'You were going to open it.' She accuses him stating it as a fact rather than a question.

'I might have been.'

'Mr Holmes, you looked guilty.' Sally states referring to her experience from interviewing criminals. 'You couldn't have looked more guilty if you had "guilty" tattooed on your forehead.'

'I'm trying to protect him.' Sally glares at him. 'I am.' Mycroft protests.

'By reading his mail? I'm pretty sure you could tell from a single glance what is in there.'

'Well…'

'I thought so.' Sally smirks knowing that Mycroft has fallen into her trap. Mycroft grimaces.

'Well done Ms Donovan. Well done indeed.' Mycroft concedes his defeat with grace and style.

'Where's your assistant?' Sally asks to change the subject.

'Taking the rest of the day off at my insistence.' Mycroft hands her the envelope and sticks the crook of his elbow out for her to take. 'May I have the pleasure of your company at Baker Street?'

'Why Mr Holmes, of course you can.' she accepts possession of the letter and hooks her arm through Mycroft's. He leads her out of the office.


	52. Chapter 51, Family Business

**Chapter 51**

**Family Business**

Mycroft and Sally stand on the step of the door waiting for someone to admit them. Sally starts to shiver and Mycroft drapes his coat over her shoulders seconds before Sherlock opens the door to admit them. He raises his eyebrows but uncharacteristically keeps silent. Mycroft glowers at his little brother as he steps back to let them over the threshold. The message in his eyes is daring the younger Holmes to say something. Sherlock waits for Sally and Mycroft to proceed before he smirks. Mary's matching making skills are working absolutely fine. They don't even know it. Sally opens the door to the living room. 'Sally.' Mary greets her. 'Mycroft. I'm about to make some tea, I assume you two would like some.'

'Yes please.' Mycroft replies stepping into the room.

'Please.' Sally says looking around for John. 'Where's John?'

'Upstairs.' Sherlock supplies, smirking. 'Asleep.'

'Sherlock, go and see if he's woken up.' Greg walks into the living room. 'If he's still asleep don't wake him.' Mycroft subtly sniffs the air as Sherlock slinks out of the room. 'Old family recipe of a Cassoulet. Turns out both Sherlock and John love this sort of stuff.' Mycroft raises his eyebrows.

'I don't believe that.'

'I can only judge by the amount of time he's been in the kitchen trying to nick stuff out of the pot.' Greg disappears back into the kitchen. Mycroft and Sally can hear Greg murmuring to Mary but neither of them can quite distinguish the words. Mycroft turns at the sounds of John clumping sleepily down the stairs. Jim scurries out of the kitchen where he had disappeared into when Mycroft had arrived.

'Johnny.'

'Jim let him sit down.' Greg sticks his head out of the kitchen as scoops the boy up and settles him on his hip. 'Sherlock you weren't supposed to wake him.'

'Have you tried sleeping under his gaze?' John asks.

'Well, no.'

'Virtually impossible. Hi Mycroft, Sally.'

'Hi John, how are you?'

'I'm fine.' John sets the toddler on the floor and sits in his armchair curling his feet underneath him. Jim immediately climbs onto his lap and snuggles close. John wraps his arms around the toddler and cuddles him. Mycroft raises his eyebrows at the sight and John smiles wryly back.

'It seems that two certain people have more in common than they think.'

'We do not.' Sherlock protests.

'How do you know I meant you?' Greg counters. 'I could have meant John and Jim.'

'Oh.' Sherlock relaxes before narrowing his eyes. 'Did you?' Greg chooses to smirk rather than answer. 'Dad? Please tell me.' Sally is slightly surprised how the name sound coming from Sherlock's mouth.

'Sherlock, just leave it.' John yawns wriggling further into his chair and clutching Jim closer to him.

'John, do you know an ex-soldier named Heivan?'

'Davey Heivan, Yeah I do.' John is suddenly wide-awake. 'What happened to him?'

'Security officer to the building where he's situated.' John chuckles as Sally inclines her head to indicate Mycroft. 'He asked us to give you this.' Sally takes out the envelope out of her pocket and hands it across to John. The blonde teenager doesn't even try to reach across and take it from her but instead he nudges Jim and the toddler scoots off his lap and snatches from Sally's grip. Jim then climbs back on and presses the paper casing into John's chest. John taps the toddling consulting criminal on the nose.

'Don't snatch.' He warns. Jim pouts.

'_Someone_ was going to open it before it was going to be given to you.'

'I wonder who that someone could be.' Sherlock remarks finally going to sit down in his chair and staring at Mycroft.

'Why would I do that?'

'Be nice you two.' Mary warns carrying steaming cups of tea into the room.

'Maybe because you can't resist prying into everything to satisfy your inherent notions that you have to know about everything and anything.'

'Sherlock.' John speaks quietly and forcefully. 'Stop it.' Sherlock does as he is told.

'Aren't you going to read it?' Greg asks.

'Nope.' John replies simply nudging Jim onto the arm of the chair so he can slip the letter into his pocket.

'Why?' Sally asks.

'I already know what it says.' John abruptly stands. 'Need to make a call. Privately.' He adds glaring at Sherlock. Greg tosses him his phone and he disappears upstairs.

Ten minutes later he reappears and reseats his himself in his armchair smirking slightly. Sherlock tries to deduce his slightly older brother. He scowls when he can't work out what John is thinking. John looks back at him raising his eyebrow slightly, his smirk growing. 'Go on, I give up.' Sherlock growls.

'You give up? On what?' John gives the perfect illusion of innocence and humility.

'How do you know Heivan?'

'Afghanistan, same regiment.'

'I know that.' Sherlock snaps. 'But how?' John's eye glints.

'Can't you work it out?' He grins. 'It is obvious after all.'

'It's not obvious at all.'

'John don't tease him.' Greg says from the sliding door.

'I'm not. Maybe he will learn to leave some things alone.' John senses rather sees Greg smirking at his comment. Mary lifts Jim of John. The toddler wriggles in her arms trying to get back to John.

'Dinner time for you little one.'

'Not hungry.' Jim whines.

'Don't care.' Mary hugs him close. 'You will eat.' Mary carries him into the kitchen. John twists in his chair.

'Dad.' He says carefully. Greg raises his eyebrows. 'You won't mind if I spend the day with Davey Heivan tomorrow, will you?'

'How trustworthy is Heivan?' Greg asks Mycroft.

'Very. I would say incorruptible but everyone has their price. We just haven't found his yet.' John scowls.

'Good job I know it then.' He murmurs quietly. 'May I go?' He asks hopefully. Greg hesitates.

'Let him.' Mary says quietly. 'We can't mollycoddle him until he's adult again.'

'Please?'

'He picks you up here. He doesn't let you out of his sight.' John cringes knowing that the rule would have to be broken. 'But yes you can go.' John breathes a quiet sigh of relief.

'Thank you. He'll be here about half eight.' John twists back to sit in his chair properly. Greg steps forward

'You assumed I would let you.'

'He assumed, I hoped.' John counters.

'Who is he?' John freezes.

'I'd rather not say. Not yet. Please.' John whispers. 'I will say, when I'm ready.'


	53. Chapter 52, Parent's Worries

**Chapter 52**

**Parent's Worry**

Eight o'clock the next morning finds John waiting at the window looking out onto the street watching for Davey Heivan to pull up in his car. At his feet his bag is packed and ready. Greg walks up behind him and looks out. 'He's got half an hour yet John.' John jumps slightly but quickly regains control.

'We need to be there for half past.' He mutters. Greg glances at the soldier's face.

'Won't they be surprised to see you as a kid.'

'They'll be warned. Besides they've seen weirder stuff.'

'What?' Greg isn't sure if he has heard properly. John doesn't answer preferring to stare out into the street. 'Have you eaten?'

'No.'

'Hypocrite.' John smirks.

'We have to fast for the first part of the morning.'

'Ritual?'

'More or less.' Greg opens his mouth to ask another question but John beats him to it. 'It's best if you don't ask. He's here.' As the teenager speaks a military car pull up outside the flat. John scoops his bag up and flings it onto his back with practised ease. Greg eyes the bag apprehensively.

'Do you need all that?'

'Yes. Bye.' John runs down the stairs and burst out onto the street. Greg watches as John clambers into the back. Greg watches as John sticks his head back out and waves up at him. Greg waves hesitantly back. As the car moves off Greg turns to keep the vehicle in his sights for as long as possible. The landline rings and Greg glances across at it.

'Answer it for god's sake.' Sherlock's sleepy voice floats out from his bedroom. Greg glowers in his direction but answers the phone.

'Relax, Dad.' John's voice filters into his ears.

'John.'

'Relax. I've served with these guys, I've saved their lives and they've saved mine.'

'John, I won't relax until you're back here or that damn chemical was worn off.'

'The curse of being a parent.' Greg frowns at the unknown voice.

'Bill shut up. That was Bill Murray, he was the medic who assigned to work with me.'

'Right.'

'I won't be able to concentrate if I know you're worrying about me. Besides you have to control Sherlock and Jim.' Greg groans.

'Don't remind me. Can't you get back here and control Jim?'

'Just set them a couple of challenges. They didn't argue in the morgue with Molly.'

'Good point.'

'Or get Mycroft to create a treasure hunt.'

'And have Sherlock refuse?'

'Don't tell him that Mycroft's involved.' Greg listens to the laughter from around John. 'SILENCE.' Instant silence.

'Still got it John.' Greg smirks.

'Helps that I'm the senior officer here.'

'Conveniently.' Bill mutters. 'Ow.'

'Don't diss TC.' Someone else says.

'Whatever Heivan.' John says.

'TC?' Greg queries.

'Three continents, tell you when I get back.' John says before Greg can ask how the nickname came to be. 'Dad. Relax. Sherlock will be worse. I've got to go, we're nearly there. I'll call when I can.' John aborts the call before Greg can reply. Sherlock slinks out of his bedroom.

'How did you know it was him?'

'I personalised the ring tones for his and my numbers. You don't need to worry so much. You'll go grey.'

'Very funny Sherlock.' Greg mutters dryly. 'Very witty indeed.' Sherlock smirks.

'He'll be fine. As far as I know all they do is prey and talk.'

'How do you know that?'

'I spied on one for Mycroft before I met John. I didn't manage to see it all, I was busted.' Sherlock muses sadly.

'You're disappointed that you missed the rest of the day?' Greg shakes his head.

'Are you disappointed in me?'

'A bit, yeah.'

'They look after each other. They're a brotherhood. All the military men are. Those men will give their lives to protect him.' Greg nods but doesn't otherwise answer.

'Are you going to eat breakfast or be as obtuse as you able to be?'

'Breakfast.' Sherlock grumbles. 'Where are Jim and Mary?'

'They went home when Mycroft left.'

'When did Sally leave?' Sherlock asks curiously. Greg raises his eyebrows.

'About half an hour after Mycroft.' He pauses as looks at Sherlock's seemingly innocent expression. 'Why? Should I be worried?' Sherlock snorts.

'Why should you be worried? Did she mention Mycroft in any other way except for work?'

'No. Don't go there. It's bad enough Mary matching them together. You aren't going to do it as well.'

'I was only going to help her nudge them in the right direction.' Sherlock protests.

'Don't. Just don't go there.' Sherlock nods once. 'What do you want to do today?' Greg asks changing the conversation to a subject that is lightly easier to maintain.

'Nothing.'

'Nothing?'

'Nothing you would want to do as well.' Sherlock clarifies.

'Shopping?' Sherlock's expression is priceless. Greg starts chuckling. 'Only joking.'

'I want to pester Mycroft.'

'Pester him how?' Sherlock's eyes dance manically. Greg chuckles catching on.

'Alright, let's do it.' Sherlock stares at him. 'You have to pass everything by me.'

'Deal.' Sherlock whisks himself back into his room to get dressed into day clothes. Greg shakes his head at the antics of his younger son, but smiles at the shear tenacity of his actions.

Mary and Jim pull the door to the house and walk down the drive. Mycroft pulls up next to them and offers the two of them a lift into town. Mary accepts but Jim scowls clearly uncomfortable with Mycroft's presence. 'Do you know what John is going to?' Mary asks. Mycroft shakes his head.

'They keep themselves to themselves. As far as I know it's a cult but not one that takeover their lives.' Mary nods slightly relieved. Jim raises his eyebrows at the pair of them.

'What is the reason that we are honoured with your presence?' Jim asks suddenly.

'Why do I need a reason?' Mycroft asks innocently. Jim turns the full force of his glare onto Mycroft but the British Government remains unfazed. Jim turns his expression into a pout. Mary laughs at the toddler's antics.

'Have you worked out who your match is yet?'

'No, but I think I have a good idea.' Mary's eyes glisten.

'Who?' She asks inquisitively. 'Tell us, who do you think she is?' Mycroft smiles his trademark "I know something you don't" smile and shakes his head.

'Just because you know you're wrong.' Mary teases.

'I'm pretty certain I'm not.'

'Then tell me.' Mycroft opens his mouth to speak.


	54. Chapter 53, Kidnap Number?

**Chapter 53**

**Kidnap Number?**

In the middle of a church, John and his fellow soldiers stand in a circle surrounded by silence. Each one of the soldiers contemplates the friends, brothers and fellow officers who they have lost in the line of duty. A quiet beep reverberates around the room, seeming louder than it actually is. 'Time for lunch.' John breaks the silence. As one the soldier move to face the front of the room, the door behind them. In pairs, led by John, on his own, they kneel in front of an alter and murmur private prayers before walking through the door. John waits on the inside of the door but all the others walk through. The blonde teenager fishes a key from around his neck as the last pair of soldiers walk out of the church into a tunnel connecting the sacred room with the rest of the complex. He takes one last look around and steps out closing and locking the door behind him. As the tumblers fall into place, sirens blare momentarily deafening the small platoon of soldiers. John is the first to regain his senses. 'Intruder alert.' He whispers looking down the corridor. 'Intruder alert.' He repeats beginning to run. The soldiers fall in behind him easily keeping pace with the teenager.

It takes around twenty minutes for the group of soldiers to get to the area. John skids to a stop. 'Private, what's going on?' He asks a nearby soldier.

'Three men have broken in. they were heading to the personnel department.'

'But?'

'We already know who they're after.' John stares at the Private, the stare delivers the unasked question. 'A Captain Watson.'

'Which regiment?'

'The shiners.' Bill Murray asks

'Thanks.' The private runs off to deliver the same information to other soldiers. Murray and Heivan step in front of John.

'Yes I know.' John speaks before either of them can. John glances around.

'Let's get back to the church.' Heivan says

'No. Dead end.' John ponders. 'This way.' John edges around the two men in front of him and walks off in the direction of the armoury.

'John.' Heivan says. John ignores him. The man growls and grabs the shoulder of the teenager before he can get out of reach. Davey Heivan spins him to face him. 'I promised Mr Holmes that I would protect you with my life. And by extension your father.' John glares at him. 'Yes, he did inform me on what has happened recently.'

'John, we would give our lives to protect yours.'

'You know I would never ask that.'

'You don't have to.' Murray replies. A ripple of murmured agreement runs around the rest of the soldiers.

'This way.' Heivan heads off in a different direction. Murray fixes his eyes on John daring to continue on his original course. John sighs and allows them to take the lead. John follows at the back of the group. Bill Murray stays close behind the teenager. John glances behind Murray and frowns. Murray glances behind but doesn't see anything.

'Wait.' John tells Heivan. Everyone stops and listen in the silence of the tunnel. A single set of footsteps approach them. John drops his voice. 'Bill, Davey with me. The rest of you cover us.' John begins to walk down another tunnel leading off the one they are in. twenty paces in he increases his pace into a jog before breaking out in a run then into a sprint. Bill Murray and Davey Heivan easily keep pace with the teenager.

'What is going on?' Murray hisses as they run.

'We need to keep John safe.' Heivan hisses back.

'Yeah, I got that-'

'Sh.' John skids to a stop with a finger to his lips.

'Where is he?' An unknown voice floats around the corner.

'Where is who?' The voice belonging to the commanding officer of the station asks.

'John Watson.' John flinches.

'I know several John Watsons.'

'Captain John Hamish Watson MD. How many of those?' the sound of a smack reverberates around the walls. The three soldiers cringe.

'Four.' John involuntary smirks.

'Four?'

'Four. I know four people with the name Captain John Hamish Watson and happen to be military doctors.'

'Davey, I need you to play Judas.'

'No.'

'Only for five minutes.'

'No.'

'Why can't the commander?' Bill asks.

'Because he's already there.'

'I meant his second.' Bill points ahead of them. 'The one we all call the commander.' John raises his eyebrows at the newcomer, who nods once to answer the unspoken question. Davey imitates holding several weapons to indicate the armoury. The officer who is the second in command on the base nods again before steeping out.

'I know who you want. Leave Commander Ferguson alone.' He says clearly.

'What? O'Brian, stand down.' Commander Ferguson demands. O'Brian steps forward out of john's sight lines.

'Please be quiet sir.' John inches forward to peak around the corner. He watches as O'Brian steps in front of Ferguson with his hand behind his back. Ferguson glances down at O'Brian's hands and sees as the fore and middle fingers are crossed for a moment and the hands are returned to the thighs of O'Brian's legs.

'O'Brian what are you saying?' Ferguson keeps up the pretence.

'I can tell you where Captain John Hamish Watson MD is currently hiding.'

'Why?' O'Brian remains silent. 'Why?' The intruder repeats. John gets a good look at his face.

'Althelney.' John breathes.

'Because he cheated at Poker.' John can see that both O'Brian and Ferguson are struggling to keep straight faces. Bill and Davey both struggle to stop laughter escaping from their mouths.

'He _cheated_ at poker?' Ferguson says with mock indignation? 'He cheated at poker?' Ferguson openly looks around the tunnel situation, ignoring the shadows of John, Heivan and Murray. 'Right, the little bugger cheated at poker. He doesn't deserve my protection.' John rolls his eyes at the obvious over-the-topness of the comments. 'Where is he hiding?'

'The armoury sir.' Ferguson pretends to storm off in completely the wrong direction, giving the three hiding soldiers a chance to get out of there. John seizes the opportunity and dashes across the open space closely followed by Heivan and Murray.

It takes them thirty minutes to emerge from the tunnel complex. John steps out first blinking into the light and runs across parkland into some cover. Bill Murray follows on his heels and moments later so does Davey Heivan. 'Where to now?' Heivan pants.

'You're unfit.' John says critically. 'Your workplace. We need Mycroft. Where are we?'

'Bottom Wood, near Newland Park on the wrong side on the M25.' John swears under his breath.

'It's going to take forever.'


	55. Chapter 54, Unconscious Growing

**Chapter 54**

**Unconscious Growing **

John bursts into the building that houses Mycroft's office and promptly collapses onto the floor. the security officers and other members of staff just stare at the teenager's body before Anthea comes to investigate the disturbance. Her gaze on the exhausted body lying prone on the floor. 'Don't help him then!' she exclaims dropping down next to him. 'John? John, can you hear me?' John groans but otherwise doesn't respond. Anthea carefully pinches his skin and watches as it subsides back into it's original position. 'Badly dehydrated. Right.' She rises to her feet. 'Someone carry him carefully to Mr Holmes' office.' She whips out her mobile and rapidly fires off several texts.

'He needs a doctor.' Someone says.

'One will be arriving at Mr Holmes' office shortly.' A burly security officer carefully picks up the prone form of John supporting his head and spine. Heivan runs in and glances around the assembled group.

'John. Where's John?' His eyes nervously dart at each other. Anthea lays a calming hand on his arm.

'He's dropped from exhaustion and dehydration. But otherwise fine.'

'Where is he?'

'I'll take you to him.' She tells him calmly. She guides him through the corridors after the security guard who had carried the blonde teenager. 'What happened?' Heivan shakes his head.

'I can't say.'

'Why not?' she asks curiously

'It's not my story to tell.' Anthea opens the door to the Mycroft's office. Heivan glances around the office before his gaze lands on the comatose teenager. He all but runs over to the teenager and pushes the doctor out of the way.

'That was uncalled for Mr Heivan.'

'Corporal, Corporal Heivan.' Heivan snaps at Mycroft. 'I am a retired corporal in Her Majesties Army.'

'Apologies Corporal Heivan. But that was uncalled for.'

'He was given something. A dart hit him.'

'I was only giving him fluids.' The doctor mutters. John stirs moaning.

'John?' Heivan whispers. 'Captain?' John whispers something inaudible to three of the adults. Heivan grabs the doctor's bag and starts rooting through it. The door to the office crashes open and Bill Murray bursts through. His gaze lands on Heivan and John and the Army nurse falls to his knees beside them. he takes the bag out of Heivan's hands.

'What does he need?'

'He muttered something about sedation.'

'What did he say exactly?' Mycroft asks.

'Vallgen, or something close.'

'Vallergan?' Mycroft asks going very pale.

'Yeah.'

'Strip him.' Mycroft demands. 'Anthea, get Greg and Sherlock here now.'

'Why?' Heivan squares up to Mycroft.

'Because I don't want to him to be uncomfortable. He's about to grow.' Murray quickly divests John of his clothes and covers him with a blanket.

'What happened?' Mycroft hesitates. 'Mr Holmes, he's not just my former boss he's one of my best friends. Please, tell me what's going on.' The door bangs open again.

'Sherlock.' Greg is the one who enters Sherlock . 'Gregory.'

'What happened?' Mycroft indicates Heivan and Murray. 'You Bill Murray?' Bill nods. 'Well?'

'Attempted abduction.'

'Why is he out cold?

'One managed to shoot a dart into his neck.'

'Do you have the dart?' Sherlock speaks for the first time. Heivan plucks a handkerchief out of his top pocket. Sherlock snatches it and unfolds it revealing the dart. 'Do you have iodine and alcohol wipes?' He addresses the doctor

'Of course I have.' Sherlock puts out his spare hand and raises his eyebrow. The doctor quickly finds them and hands them over to Sherlock. The teenage consulting detective steps over to Mycroft's desk and conducts a simple test.

'He's been dosed with Vallergan.' Sherlock confirms. Greg visibly deflates. The detective inspector pulls himself together and glares at everyone who is close to John's head. They all move back allowing him to take up his rightful position. Sherlock abandons the dart and medical supplies and joins his father in the vigil on watching his brother. Behind them, Mycroft indicates that the doctor, Anthea and the soldiers should leave Greg and Sherlock to their vigil. Murray and Heivan glare at the government official.

'I may just be a security officer Mr Holmes. But I'm not leaving him.'

'I may only be an army nurse and I'm staying as well.' Greg and Sherlock ignore the interaction. The doctor slips out of the room closely followed by Anthea.

'Besides, you're staying.' Mycroft sighs.

'I'm family. Not blood but still family.' Mycroft says. 'Fine. You can stay.' He reluctantly relents. Murray and Heivan both nod once. 'But if he wants you out you go.'

'Understood.' Murray answers for them.

It takes five hours for John to awake from his sedated sleep. The five other people who had remained in the room watched as the teenager grew. His limbs lengthened and the muscles filled out giving the young doctor a look much closer than his normal one. Sherlock is the first one to notice John's eyes fluttering. Beside the young detective, Greg had fallen into a restless sleep. But his eyes spring open when Sherlock whispers 'John?'

'John?' Greg whispers his hand cupping John's face.

'D D Dad?' John manages to croak.

'Hey?' Greg replies.

'Mycroft, water.' Mycroft swiftly moves to Sherlock side holding a glass of water with a straw. Sherlock seizes it from his brother's hand and passes it to his father. Greg accepts it and positions the straw next to John's mouth. John draws the water into his mouth and moistens his throat gratefully. Greg puts the glass on the floor and assists John in sitting up.

'It hurts.'

'What does?'

'The scar.' Sherlock moves around Greg and starts massaging the damaged tissue. John chuckles slightly.

'Shut up.'

'What?' Heivan asks really confused.

'I'm older than him now. Properly and physically.' Sherlock scowls.

'I'll grow soon.' John chuckles.

'But you won't catch me up.'

'Boys.' Greg warns.

'Sorry Dad.' The two regressed crime fighters chorus.

'Are there any clothes I can wear? Only…' John vaguely gestures around the office.

'Mary's coming with some more clothes.'

'Jim will be pissed.'

'Why?'

'You've grown again and he hasn't.' John smiles lazily and stretches clicking all his joints.

'That is disgusting.' Sherlock says wrinkling his nose.

'You do when you grow.' John counters. Mary and Jim walk into the room stopping Sherlock from retorting. Mary smiles and hands over his clothes. John accepts them gratefully and wraps himself up in the sheet and walks into the bathroom attached to the office.

'If we are dosed with Vallergan, we grow however amount of years.' Sherlock stands and begins pacing the length of the room. 'First time we aged a year in an hour more or less. But we aged seven years last time. It doesn't make sense.'

'You slept for seven hours then. Sherlock.'

'Oh.' John emerges from the bathroom.

'How old?' Greg asks his elder son.

'Huh, oh twenty.'


	56. Chapter 55, Familial Worries

**Chapter 55**

**Familial Worries**

John follows Sherlock, Mary and Greg as he carries the young Jim through the halls of power after leaving Mycroft's office. 'I want to grow.' Jim whispers into John's ear. John smiles warmly. 'I don't want to be small anymore.'

'Do you mean you want to be sedated?' John chuckles quietly. Jim nods against the blonde's neck.

'You're old enough now.'

'Not really Jim. Last time I was twenty I had only just started my second year of medical school.'

'But-'

'No Jim. I'm not doing it.' John glances over to the other three and sees that they are waiting for him and Jim. He quickens his pace ignoring the consulting criminal's pout. Jim reaches out for Mary to take him off John. Sherlock smirks. John rolls his eyes at Sherlock's expression.

'Care to explain?' Greg asks the elder of his sons.

'Nope. He just asked something I wasn't comfortable with.' Greg understands immediately and hooks his arm around John's shoulders.

'Captain!' Heivan runs up to them. John turns.

'Corporal.'

'We were going to give you something when the… you know… was finished.' John nods to indicates he understands. Heivan digs an envelope out of his pocket and hands it over to the Young Captain. John accepts the letter and stuffs it into his pocket.

'I need to run.' He murmurs.

'Run where?' Greg asks.

'I'll meet you at your house.' John starts moving away.

'Meet me at the yard.' John nods, turns on his heel and begins to run away from the group.

'Where's he going?' Jim asks his face is still buried in Mary's neck.

'He needs to blow some steam.' Greg replies carefully. 'Sudden growing must take a toll. Mentally and physically.'

'But I haven't been affected.' Sherlock protests.

'Really?' Greg asks.

'Stop arguing you two.' Mary says tiredly. 'Greg, Get over to the yard and wait for John. Sherlock come home with me and help with dinner. No buts-' Mary points a warning finger at Sherlock. She switches it to Greg's face. 'Either of you.' Greg smiles in acquiescence and nods.

'I will Mary. Don't you worry about a thing.' He kisses her face and hails a cab for her. He opens the door and holds it open for his wife, younger of his two sons and his three-year-old charge to climb in. He closes the door after Sherlock settles himself into his seat. Mary opens the window and sticks her head out.

'Talk to him.'

'I will Mary, stop worrying.' Greg bangs gently on the top of the cab. 'Off you go.' Sherlock slumps in his seat as the cab drives away from the building that houses Mycroft's office. Greg sighs as the cab turns the corner leans against the door jamb.

'Stressed?' Anthea asks surprising him from behind.

'Am I heck? Sherlock's stropping because John's grown, Jim's pouting because he hasn't grown. John's stressed because he's sick of the sudden growths and the constant interruptions to his life.' Anthea grimaces. 'Yeah, I know. I'm the one who has to deal with it all.'

'You are doing brilliantly.' Anthea lays a calming hand on Greg's arm as she hails a cab for him. 'I assume you are going to Scotland Yard?'

'Yeah. Told John to head there. He and I need to talk about things.' A cab pulls up and Greg climbs in. Anthea closes the door behind him and watches as the cab drives away from where she is standing. She sees Greg wearily lean his head on the window of the cab just before it takes him out of her view.

Greg walks through the floor of the homicide department and he ignores everyone was he places one foot in front of the other. Anderson watches him with an amused expression on his face. Sally glares at him. 'Don't.' She says pointing a warning finger at him as he opens his mouth. 'Don't even think about it.' Anderson snaps his mouth shut with a snap and glares at his former girlfriend.

'I wasn't going to say that.' He retorts.

'Good.' Greg sticks his head out of his office effectively silencing the argument.

'Send John in as soon as he comes please Sally.'

'Yes sir.' Anderson looks between the door to Greg's office and Sally Donovan curiously. 'Parker, get him a good coffee, he needs caffeine.' Parker smiles and leaves the department to fetch the coffee. The door swings shut behind her only to be opened again by John. Sally raises her eyebrows at the sheen of sweat coating the twenty-year-old's forehead.

'Good run?' She enquires. John shrugs noncommittally.

'Did what I needed it to do.' John glances at Anderson and lowers his voice so the forensic scientist can't hear him. 'If he keep his mouth open much longer flies might make it a home.' Sally snorts. A couple of other officer snigger.

'What?' Anderson asks loudly. No one answers him

'Nothing Anderson.' John says drily.

'How old?' Sally asks John softly.

'Twenty. Sherlock's still fifteen and Jim's three.' John mutters.

'Ow, they must be smarting.' Sally giggles.

'Yep.' John joins in with the giggling. Parker re-enters the department carrying a steaming mug of coffee for Greg and a hot chocolate for John.

'Hot Chocolate for you.' She raises the correct mug. 'Coffee for him.' she pushes both mugs into his hands and spins John around by the shoulders to face the office

'He in the office?' He asks facetiously.

'Yeah, he's expecting you.' Sally replies. John nods and enters the office, closing the door behind him. 'Really you should have gone in straight away but you can say you waited so you could take his coffee in to him.' She gives him a gentle nudge in the direction of the office. 'And do you know what Mary is planning?' John glances over his shoulder at her.

'Yes but I'm not allowed to tell.' Sally's face drops into a pout. 'Won't work on me Sally. Remember, I live with Sherlock.' Sally grins.

'I could ask him.'

'Yeah, you could.' John grins back. 'He'll lord it over you that he knows and you don't. In fact, he's probably helping our Aunt Mary.' Sally sighs heavily in defeat.

'Get in that office.' John gives her a smirk

'Yes boss.' He kicks the door to his father's office open and walks in without spilling a drop from either cup. He knocks the door shut with his heel and places the cup of coffee in front of Greg while patiently waiting for him to finish on the phone.

'John.' Greg says as he replaces the handset. 'We need to talk.' John nods.


	57. Chapter 56, Ending Begins

**Chapter 56**

**Ending Begins**

John sits on the opposite of the desk to Greg. They both nurse the drinks that Parker had gotten for them. As they drink they sit in silence not wanting to be the first to speak. 'How was the run?' Greg asks finally before the silence becomes awkward. John rolls his neck and clicks a few of the vertebrae to realign them.

'It was okay. It would have been longer but I assumed that you wanted to talk to me.' John states bluntly. Greg inclines his head.

'Will you be going out for a run again?'

'Dad. Just get to the point.' John says tiredly.

'How are you feeling?'

'About what?'

'Everything. Being my son. Your mother dying. Being kidnapped, chased what?' Greg asks stopping his list as John starts chuckling.

'Being kidnapped and chased? Dad, that's apart of life I'm used to. Firstly as a soldier then at Sherlock's side. As scary as it sounds it's my life. But yeah, finding out about the first two, mum and you. They were both hard but you being accepting when I first came on the scene. And mum…' John hesitates. 'Mum's gone to a better place and I hope… I hope she is happy. She deserves to be.' John abruptly rises and walks over to the window and stares out stoically. Greg rises slowly and moves to stand behind his shoulder. He carefully places his hand on his son's shoulder. John steps back slightly to lean his head on Greg's shoulder. The Detective Inspector moves his hand so his arm lays against the younger man's shoulders. They stand there for a few moments before Greg's phone buzzes. He access the received text. chuckles at it and shows it to John. 'Can I punch him?'

'When you go.' John sneers.

'He deserves a good punch to the face. Or several.' Greg strokes his son's shoulder with his thumb.

'When you do. Don't go over the top.'

'Who was on the phone?' John asks suddenly, desperate to get the conversation away from him and his feeling to a completely different subject. But unfortunately not everything can go his way.

'Mycroft.' John nods. 'Just after we left he got the results that they can reverse the effects of the chemical for all of you. The question is would you do it?' John turns and perches on the window sill.

'Honestly?'

'Honestly.'

'I don't know. Jim would, he's annoyed that Sherlock and I have grown and he hasn't.'

'Is that why he wanted out of your arms?' John nods.

'He wanted me to sedate him until he was back to his normal self.'

'That would be thirty-'

'Twenty five hours. Sherlock would be asleep for fourteen, and eleven for me.'

'Would you do it?'

'I want to be back to normal. But I don't want the annoyance of rapid growth. Each time my joints, they. I don't know.' John closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. 'I don't know about Sherlock, but each I grow my joints become, well, stiff. Hard to move for the first few minutes. It gets easier but…' John gestures around vaguely.

'It lingers.' Greg says. John nods.

'Would you want me to?' Greg raises his eyebrows in confusion.

'To do what? Put you to sleep to make you go back to normal?' John nods

'Yeah. Would you?' Greg sighs and look out over the homicide department.

'Yes.' He looks back at his son. 'Yes I would. I need you and Sherlock back to normal. Solving crimes, stopping him insulting us.' John gives him a look. 'Ok.' Greg concedes. 'Maybe not Anderson.' John smirks. 'But we need you back now. Both of you.' Greg points a warning finger at John. 'Don't tell him I said that.'

'Like hell I would.' A corner of John's mouth turns up. Greg looks at him wearily.

'What are you planning?' The other corner goes up. 'John.' Greg throws his hands in the air. 'You know what. Never mind. I guess I'll find out soon enough.' Greg turns to his door but turns back to look at his son. 'And if I'm lucky you will forget about it.' The both of them share a laugh.

'If you're lucky.' John repeats. He turns his head to stare out of the window over the department.

'When does Mycroft want to start it?'

'Start- Oh, start the process to stop the regression. When ever you three want to. You all are responsible adults mentally after all.' John gives him another look. 'Well I'm not so sure about Sherlock and Jim.'

'They are just big kids. But they need to be adults and normal. Well, as normal as they can be.'

'As normal as we can be. You could say they're the normal ones and everyone else is weird.'

'Where do we fit in?'

'Oh with the Holmes' and the Moriarties.' The father and son duo burst out laughing and walk out onto the department floor. Sally twists in her desk seat to look at the laughing pair.

'What are you two laughing at?'

'Something that is completely impossible.' John says between giggles. Greg bursts out laughing.

'Care to share?'

'No, not really.' Greg says. The two of them manage to regain control of their diaphragms. Both of them breathe heavily.

'How are we going to do this?' John asks finally.

'You get on over to Mycroft. I'll go and tell the others about the development. Sally go with him.'

'I'll be fine by myself. I am twenty.'

'Yeah twenty going on thirty one. I don't care Sally, goes with you.' Greg and John have a staring contest. This time Greg knows he will win, being John's father and sure enough John backs down.

'Fine.' He yields reluctantly. He turns and strides out of the building.

'Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid. Like punch Mycroft.' John pauses at that comment. He turns on his heels.

'You said I could do this.' John strides back over to Anderson. 'This is for all your insults about me and my brothers.' John draws his fist back and launches his hand into Anderson's nose. A satisfying crunch reverberates around the department. John steps back shaking his fist. After all, the best punches hurt the giver and well as the receiver.

'Go John. We'll deal with this.' John gives his father a curt nod, spins and marches out of the room. Sally and Greg share a look and Greg indicates for her to follow young soldier. 'Look after him Sally. He doesn't realise but needs someone to look after him.' Sally nods and hurries after John.


	58. Chapter 57, Finishing Cases

**Chapter 57**

**Finishing Cases**

Greg, Mary, Mycroft and Sally watch as Sherlock, John and Jim are put to sleep and held under. Above the headstand of bed is a digital clock counting down the hours, minutes and seconds until each of them have regained their former selves, the adult selves. Johns clock has the least time to run being the eldest in both senses on the word. Sherlock's only a few hours more and Jim has the longest time asleep. At the end of the consulting criminal's bed stands Mary. 'He looks so small.' She mutters. Sally looks over at him.

'He does.' She agrees. She smiles a small smile. 'I never thought I would be saying that.'

'And I never thought I would look upon John as blood kin. Or Jim as someone other than a criminal.' Mycroft says standing to one side of John's bed looking down at all three of them. Greg and Sally stand at the foot of Sherlock and John's beds. A scientist slips quietly into the room and subtly coughs. All four of them jump having not noticed his entrance.

'I'm sorry but for this to work properly I'm afraid you all have to leave.'

'Why?' Greg asks forcefully. 'I'm not leaving my sons.'

'I'm not leaving my brothers.' Mycroft's quiet voice sounds out so out of character it makes everyone pause, even the scientists.

'Even so. The room needs to be in darkness.' The lead technician replies confidently. 'Even torchlight might affect their development.'

'We can't risk it.' Mary says softly. 'We need them back. We can't risk everything not going to plan.' Her soft quiet voice makes both Mycroft and Greg agree to the scientists demands. Mary guides Greg away from the foot of Sherlock's bed towards the door. She stops him and returns for Mycroft. Hands on his shoulders, she steers him out of the room past Greg, lingering by the door. 'Sally.' She says before exiting the room still steering Mycroft. Sally snaps back to herself and walks over to the door and prods Greg out of the room leaving the technician in charge of the three unconscious men. The technician flicks the light after drawing each of the blinds. The room becomes blanketed in darkness with only a few cracks slipping in between the blinds and the frame of the windows. None of it, thankfully, falling near the ex-army doctor, the consulting criminal or detective.

Mary and Sally sit in Mycroft's office watching the two men sleep. 'I hate drugging people.' Sally says.

'Me too.' Mary agrees. 'but we had to. They wouldn't rest otherwise.'

'How did you know tea was the best way.' Sally asks curious despite herself.

'John told me.' Mary says. 'He uses it sometimes to make Sherlock rest.' Mary glances at the sleeping form of Mycroft. 'What do you think?'

'What?' Sally is surprised at the sudden change of topic. Mary nods over at Mycroft. 'Greg?'

'No.' Mary laughs. 'Mycroft.'

'The Iceman?' Sally shakes her head. 'It would never work.'

'Why not?' Mary asks with mock innocence.

'Because I insult his brother on almost a daily basis.'

'Did you fully understand what it was to be Sherlock then?' Sally shakes her head thoughtfully. 'Do you understand now?' Sally nods.

'Yes. Yes I do.'

'So why won't it work? I know Sherlock doesn't mind.' Sally's eyes bulge.

'When did he find out?'

'Before he visited the palace with John and Greg. He worked it out and being only three years old wanted to tell his big brother straight away.'

'Do you know what happened to drive them apart?'

'Mycroft went away to school and then Sherlock started to be ignored by their parents. They couldn't control him. Sherlock felt that his brother abandoned him.'

'Bullying?' Mary nods.

'Big time. You and Anderson made him return to his buried childhood memories. The ones he has always wanted to forget.' Sally slumps in her chair.

'I never realised.'

'He always hid his emotions away. You didn't know because he didn't want you to know.'

'And John had his fair share of childhood troubles.' Sally says sadly. Mary nods just as woefully. 'Two troubled souls meeting not even realising they are brothers. They connect and everyone thinks they are dating because they each can see the others hidden troubles. They have a bond nothing can break. A bond stronger than love or friendship or brotherhood.'

'They're soul mates.'

'No, their bond is stronger than soul mates.' Sally glances at the clock.

'How long left until John wakes up?' Mary presses a few keys on Mycroft's keyboard.

'Yes.' She breathes. Sally moves around to stand behind her.

'How did you hack his password?'

'You just need to know a little about the person behind the man.' Mary quickly finds the right link to call up the countdown timers. 'Six hours, twelve minutes for John.' Sally checks the countdown on her watch.

'They'll be waking up soon. In about ten minutes.' Mary nods and settles back in Mycroft's comfy computer chair. 'They will be livid.'

'They will live. If they don't we'll only threaten them with more sedation.' Sally smirks.

'Yeah, like that would work.'

'Oh, I'm sure Anthea wouldn't mind helping us.' The two women burst into peals of laughter disturbing Mycroft from his sleep.

Mycroft wakes up quickly. As soon as he is alert, he shouts for his brother. 'Lockie!' His shout wakes Greg who calls for both John and Sherlock. Both the women are over next to their chairs and calming their respective men before they even know it.

'They are are fine. Still unconscious and growing.' Mary murmurs in Greg's ear. 'John is good, Sherlock is good. Everything is okay. Relax, just relax.' Mary can hear Sally murmuring similar things in Mycroft's ear.

'How long for John to wake?' Mary nearly misses Greg quiet question.

'Just under six hours.' Mary replies. 'And an extra three for Sherlock.'

'What about Jim?' Greg croaks. Mary smiles. 'He's got eleven hours to sleep on his own after Sherlock and John have woken up.' Greg nods tiredly and leans into Mary. She wraps her arms around her husband and cuddles him close. As one, they look up to see Mycroft fall back to sleep in Sally's arms. Mary smiles to see her plans fall into place.

'Sneaky woman.' Greg whispers.

'You can't deny that they aren't perfect for each other. Especially since they've both seen different sides of each other.' Greg nods

'You're right, I can't deny it.' Greg moves his head to rest in the crook of Mary's arm.

'Go back to sleep. The sedative we gave you is still in your system.'

'You'll stay awake?'

'Yes.' Mary promises. 'If not me then Sally will be.' Mary feels Greg nod against her arm. She places a kiss in his silver hair. 'Sleep tight, my silver fox.' She whispers into her hair. Greg doesn't reply.


	59. Chapter 58, Waking Up

**Chapter 58**

**Waking Up**

Greg and Mary sit on opposite sides of the hospital bed that John is lying in. Greg carefully takes the calloused hand of the former soldier into his own and massages the palm and back of the hand. Mary watches as he does so before copying with John's other hand. 'it's going to be weird.' Greg says suddenly, breaking the silence

'How so?' Mary asks.

'I've got used to them needing me.' He admits. 'Now they're back to normal, they won't need me as much.'

'Hey, you know that's not true. They will need you. John will need you to keep his sanity. And Sherlock will still need cases. They will need you but in their own ways. Gregory Lestrade, you will not abandon them.' Greg smiles sadly

'As if that would ever happen. But you know what Sherlock is like, he pushes everyone away before he can hurt them or be hurt by them.'

'He tried that with you, remember?' Greg nods. 'It didn't work, you're still here. Fighting for both of them and anyone who can't see that is a complete and utter idiot.' John stirs slightly, prompting Greg to rise and lean over the bed slightly. The blonde man settles again and Greg sinks back into his seat. 'Dreams?'

'I think so.' Greg replies softly not wanting to wake his elder son up before he is ready. Greg and Mary sit in silence for a few more minutes until John grips their hands tightly. Tight enough to cause pain. The soldier's face tightens and he starts to thrash. Greg manages to ease his hand out of John's vice like grip. Mary struggles to free her hand and Greg leans over to help her making sure to keep a hold of John's hand on his side to stop the unconscious soldier from hurting any of them. The detective inspector manages to loosen John's grip on Mary's hand allowing her to slip it out. Greg keeps hold of both of his son's wrists as Mary strokes his brow with gentle, soothing hands. Together, they manage to calm the distressed soldier. John starts himself awake and Greg lets go of his wrists. 'Hey.' Greg says softly. 'How are you?' John scrunches his face to remember what happened.

'Dad?' He croaks, Greg reflexively smiles internally glad that John can remember everything.

'Yeah. I'm here John.' John relaxes back into the bed. Mary keeps stroking his forehead and hair. John rubs his eyes getting rid of the stuff that lodges in the corners of eyes. John places his hands flat on the bed intending to his push self into a sitting position. Greg anticipates John's actions by slipping his arm around the soldier's and helps him into a sitting position. 'Feeling creaky?' John nods chuckling. 'I'm sure Mary will book you into a massage parlour.'

'Cheeky.' Mary says softly.

'Make Mycroft pay for it.' All three of them chuckle.

'How's Sherlock?'

'Still asleep. He will be for another three hours.' John nods and leans his head on his father's shoulder.

'The war?' Mary asks. John nods again rubbing his bullet scarred shoulder.

Sherlock lies in the same bed that John had lain in three hours previously. Instead of just Greg and Mary by the side of his bed; Sherlock has Mycroft, Sally and John waiting for him to wake up as well. 'How are you feeling now John?' Greg asks.

'Better. I can actually move now. But I'm still stiff.'

'The technicians say that should go after a couple of days.' Mycroft says softly as he strokes curls away from Sherlock's closed eyes. Sally subconsciously lays her hand on his shoulder and strokes the joint with her thumb. Everyone notices it but doesn't comment. John sees Mary's eyes sparkle and shakes his head smiling.

'What?' Sally asks seeing the head shake and not noticing her hand on Mycroft's shoulder.

'Nothing.' Sally rolls her eyes and notices where she had placed her hand. She hastily withdraws it. Mycroft feels the withdrawal of her hand and glances up at her. They weakly smile at each other. Greg, John and Mary watch their interaction but a soft chuckle from the bed draws everyone's attention to the smiling sleepy form of Sherlock.

'Hello again little brother.' Mycroft says softly

'Just kiss her already.'

'Kiss who?' Mycroft tries to feign ignorance. Sherlock just smiles and raises his eyebrows. Mycroft leans forward and whispers in his brother's ear. 'You know I don't do relationships very well.' Sherlock weakly pushes him away.

'Sherlock.' John chuckles. Sherlock moves his focus from Mycroft to his recently found brother. 'How you feeling?'

'Stiff.' John moves jerkily round to sit next to Mycroft. Sherlock eyes the cane in his hand. 'Why the cane?'

'Still unsteady when I walk.' John rolls his eyes at Sherlock's expression. 'After I woke up last time you idiot.' John adds humorously. Sherlock smiles and clicks all the vertebrae in the top half of his back.

'Sherlock, that is disgusting.' Mary says prodding him in the stomach. Sherlock manages to bat her hand away through the action is extremely weak. Mary giggles but removes her hand.

'Very mature, Mary.' The patient mutters.

'You've got questions.' John states trying not to smirk. Sherlock smiles broadly.

'When can we go?' All six of them burst out laughing.

'What's Jim's status?' John asks when everyone had regained control of their breathing.

'Still asleep with the body of a teenager.' Mycroft says. Sherlock nods

'How long does he have left to sleep?'

'About eleven hours.' Sherlock nods again.

'Can we go now?'

'Only if you walk with a stick.' Sherlock scowls but concedes the point in order to stop boredom from destroying his mind and everyone else's sanity.

Jim slowly wakes up in the same bed that Sherlock and John both came to in. the artificial florescent lights hurt the retinas of Jim's eyes. The consulting criminal lifts a hand to block out the light. 'Boss?' A voice to his side asks. 'Boss, you okay?' Jim scowls as he struggles to place the owner of the voice. The scowl turns into a frown as he slowly connects the dots.

'You should be Australia.' Jim growls.

'Finished and cleared up. Now I'm back Boss.' Jim feels the hit man scan the length of his body. 'What have you been up to Boss?'

'Stopping idiots from harming my enemies. Only my men are allowed to harm them under my orders.'

'Course Boss.'

'Turn the lights off.'

'Yes, Boss.' Jim hears the hit man stand but the lights are flicked off for too quickly to be him.

'Moran.'

'Yes, Boss?'

'I think the consistent boss calling is getting to him.' Mary's voice floats into Jim's ears. 'How are you feeling Jim?'

'Who the hell are you?'

'Moran.' Jim growls warningly.

'Sir?'

'Shut up.' Mary steps up to the opposite side of the bed to Moran.

'How are you Jim?' Jim groans.

'Stiff, achy, weak, headache?' Jim grunts in affirmative to each of her suggestions.

'How did you know?' Moran asks suspiciously.

'Because I've already spoken to other people who have been in exactly the same position.' Mary says calmly, she places her hand 'Jim, the doctors want you to finish the night in here.' Jim scowls. Mary pats his hand. 'Only because of the big change. The others didn't have such a long time.'

'Why are you here?'

'Moran!'

'Jim, he's entitled to ask.' Jim scowls but lets Mary answer the question.

'Because while you were away, Jim needed looking after. I will let him explain if he wants to but me and my husband were already looking after the others so we took him in.' Mary ruffles the consulting criminal's hair and Jim lets her. Moran raises his eyebrows at the interaction between the two of them. The door opens and Anthea walks in.

'Miss Mary, your husband and stepsons are wishing to leave.'

'Thank you.' Mary turns to Jim as Anthea exits the room. 'Would you like me to come back in the morning?'

'No.'

'Okaaay grumpy. I won't come.' Reluctantly, Jim grins at the reference the bedtime stories that he had loved listening Mary read to him. Moran narrows his eyes at her words and glares at her. 'Do one thing for me please Jim.' Jim nods. 'Don't go too over the top when you're discharged.'

'Understood.'

'Thank you.' Mary takes a liberty and places a gentle kiss on Jim's forehead to say goodbye to the little boy she had become attached to. 'Good bye Jim. I hope to see you again but, I doubt I will.' She gives him a fond smile and leaves the room. Moran's face keeps changing expression from bemused through confused and bewildered to disgust before settling on a stoic "not my business" expression. Jim chuckles at the display on Moran's face before settling back into sleep. Mary glances over her shoulder just before she leaves the room. She sees the obvious respect between employee and employer. She gives them both a small smile and leaves the room making sure to close the door behind her.

'Is he okay? Greg asks.

'Jim's fine.'


	60. Epilogue, The End?

**Epilogue**

**The End?**

Mycroft, Dom and Greg sit in the lounge in the arrivals section of the airport waiting for the people on Mrs Hudson's flight to start drifting in from baggage reclaim and immigration. Greg just chuckling for seemingly no reason. 'What?' Mycroft asks curiously.

'Nothing.' The British Government glares at the Detective Inspector, who sighs 'it's just Sherlock's face when we said he couldn't come with us.' This elicits a laugh from the other two.

'Is this the young lady we're waiting for?' Dom points to the figure of Mrs Hudson as she walks through the door from immigration and customs stop. All three men stand and make their way over to the barriers.

'Mycroft.' Mrs Hudson smiles at them as she approaches.

'Mrs Hudson.' He embraces her over the barrier.

'How is your brother? And how is John?' Mycroft shares a conspiratorial glance with the other two.

'They are waiting for you back at Baker Street.' Mrs Hudson retracts her arms from the embrace plants her hands on her hips.

'Mycroft, spill.' Greg chuckles at her tone.

'Mrs Hudson. The boys are looking forward to seeing you again and they have a surprise for you. The longer we linger here the longer you have to wait to see them again.' Mrs Hudson glares at the two of them before transferring her gaze to Dom.

'Dom Watson, John's older brother. We met just before you took off on your holiday' Dom is careful to hide the family relationships that have emerged while Mrs Hudson has been away.

'So, Inspector what have I missed?' Greg sucks in a breath.

'More than we can say, Mrs Hudson, but then not much at all.'

'Very clear.' Greg grins. Dom wraps his arm around her shoulders.

'Mrs Hudson, I'm sure you know how to break their defences down but I suggest to give into your curiousity and allow them their secrets. After all you get the upper hand.' He steers her away from Greg and Mycroft along the barrier. 'Little boys and all.' Greg rolls his eyes at Dom's words but grins.

'A typical Watson.' Mycroft mutters. 'Always having an eye out for the ladies.'

'It's working in our favour. Mrs Turner.' Greg greets Mrs Hudson's best friend and neighbour. 'Are we dropping you off first?'

'If you wouldn't mind.'

'It's not a problem Mrs Turner. Now if I were you I would go and catch up with Mrs Hudson and stop Dom from flirting too much. We'll wait for you by the exit doors.' Mrs Turner hurried after Mrs Hudson and Mycroft breathes a sigh of relief.

'I really hate that woman, too much of a busy body.' He mutters.

'Mrs Hudson loves a good gossip as well.' Greg points out as they wander over to the exit doors. They are quickly joined by Mrs Hudson and Mrs Turner with Dom pushing the luggage trolley. All five of them pile into Mycroft's car and get driven into Central London.

The car pulls up outside the street door of 221B Baker street. Dom climbs out first and helps Mrs Hudson out. 'Flat B isn't destroyed is it?' She asks carefully.

'I can honestly say the flat has not been destroyed.' Greg replies climbing out after her.

'Good.' Dom steps up to the door as Mycroft emerges elegantly from the car. Dom bangs a sequence of knocks against the door and the four people on the street can hear shouting on the inside.

'They're here.'

'Too soon. Too soon.'

'Tough. I'm letting them in.' Sally opens the door grinning.

'Sir, Mycroft, Mrs Hudson, Dom.' Her eyes sparkle with mischievous intent. Mrs Hudson looks at the men accompanying her. The roguish look is repeated in each pair of eyes.

'What is going on?' Mrs Hudson demands.

'Go into your flat Mrs Hudson and all will be revealed.' Greg replies cryptically. Sally steps back to let her in. Dom and Greg shadow her as she approaches the front door to her ground floor flat. She pushes open the door reveals a fully-grown Sherlock and John standing there grinning at her. She stands stock still astonished at the sight. Sherlock strides forward and gathers her into his arms hugging her tightly.

'Welcome back Mrs Hudson. We've missed you.' Mrs Hudson returns the hug.

'You're back to normal.' She stammers.

'Of course we are.' Sherlock retorts as he steps back.

'Sherlock.' John reprimands. Mrs Hudson narrows her eyes.

'There's more.' She states as Greg edges past her. 'Inspector?'

'Not for me to say.' He says quickly.

'Wuss.' Mary bats him over the head.

'Am not.' He retorts. 'Mrs Hudson, would like something to nibble on?' Greg takes up a tray of homemade sausage rolls and presents it to Mrs Hudson.

'Thank you.' She takes one and bites into it savouring the flavour and crisp pastry. She swallows. 'You aren't getting off that lightly.'

'Yeah Dad.' John says after a small nod from Mary. Mrs Hudson's head spins round so fast John would be worried about whiplash.

'Dad?' she asks.

'Ah, yes, John is my son.' Greg replaces the tray on the table and rubs his chin. 'I knew his mother when we were younger. I didn't actually find out until recently.'

'Go on.' Mrs Hudson prompts when he pauses. Greg shakes his head.

'I can't.' Mary playfully nips his ear.

'Tell her about your other one.'

'Who?' Mrs Hudson asks.

'Guess.' Mary says her eyes dancing.

'Sherlock.' Mrs Hudson guess carefully. Everyone stares at her. 'It's the only one that makes sense.' She says.

'Regardless, Mrs Hudson. I knew there was I reason I liked you so much. DI Greg Lestrade is my father. John and Mycroft are my older half-brothers.' Sherlock sneers as he says older.

'Mrs Hudson. Welcome to the family.' John says simply.

**The End _or is it?_**

_**A/N:- Thank you everybody for lasting through to the end of this rather strange story. There could be a sequel but only if there is enough interest. It would be drabbles rather than a proper structured story like this was. PM me if you want to here more about the adventures of Sherlock, John, Greg, Mary, Sally, Mycroft, Mrs Hudson and Dom. Thank you again for the continued support. I may even dedicate chapters to people.**_

As of publishing this chapter I have 121 reviews, 51 favourites, 109 story alerts, 1 community and 45.5 thousand views. Thanks very much again guys.


	61. Author's Note Regarding Sequel

**_Hey every one... just to let you know I feel that I have garnered enough interest to start a sequel to this story._**

**_For the up and coming Drabbles set (which should be published in the next few weeks) prompts are encouraged and those who do will be generously thanked by having a dedication. - if you have a prompt please PM me rather than review. prompts can be more or less anything but please keep it clean there will be no explicit slash in this universe. My take on the characters are that they are gentlefolk. _**

**_And if you are the amazing person who wrote the following review: 'If you are considering writing another story I think I have enough interest for four or five people. I looked forward to every chapter with bated breath, it's going to be weird not waiting for updates now... like something'l be missing' Might i just say you are amazing and it's comments like those that keep me writing so thank you_**


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